


As It Seems

by Setaeru



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe, Asexual Character, Dom Castiel, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, Heavy BDSM, Humiliation, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Public Scene, Safeword Use, Sex Club, Sub Dean, Subdrop, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-04-26 03:41:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 44,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4988884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Setaeru/pseuds/Setaeru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Thick leather boots, snug leather pants that looked like jeans, a leather belt and a leather chest harness with four belts that had double holes; all in black. The harness revealed a hairless but muscled abdomen and strong arms that made Dean nearly drool. The motherfucker looked like a leather daddy, and Dean's dick twitched within the tight confines of his jeans at the sight of the Dom.</em>
</p>
<p><em>"Hello, Dean," Castiel greeted, practically lounging on his chair. Dean gulped and dragged his gaze up the man's body to his eyes, flushing lightly at the amused sparkle within them.</em><br/>--<br/>It was supposed to be one Friday night, one quick and fun night of play; but then it turned into two nights and that turned into three... and four and five and six and after that, they just stopped keeping track.</p>
<p>
  <em>Previously named: <strong>Best Shot</strong></em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [As It Seems](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sut9u9fIkPA)   
>  ~~[Best Shot](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6zoX5CzObT4) ~~
> 
> I think I just like making problems for myself. Sigh. Oh well. This is just lots of kink with a dash of aftercare and a hint of attraction. I have no idea where this is going and I don't really know if I'll find out but I'll try. Also, it's basically (almost) limited third person and it'll be changing between Dean and Castiel. So right now, this is **Dean's Third POV.**
> 
> Unbetaed and not proofread, pointing out mistakes (or inaccuracies with the binding and stuff) would be helpful~ Thank you! Enjoy!
> 
> **Warnings are tagged at the end, and will always be tagged at the end.**

**Dean**

Dean stepped up behind a man with dark, messy brown hair and a lean build, clearing his throat to get his attention. "Name's Henry, you?" Dean held up two fingers, and the bartender, Benny, nodded at him, continuing to pour another man's drink. The man in front of him turned around, and Dean was suddenly attacked by intense blue eyes.

"Can I help you?" The man asked, raising a brow.

"Sure, you can," Dean shot him a charming grin. "You into doing a scene?"

"Depends," the man tilted his head, eyes darkening with something sharp and suspicious. "What do you want?"

"Anything you're into works." Dean grinned at Benny as thanks when he set down his glass of whisky. He picked it up and took a sip. "I'm assuming you're a Dom?"

"Yes, and I do not switch if you were wondering."

"Ah," Dean licked his lips. "I'd prefer to Dom but I'm cool with subbing. Wanna scene?"

The Dom tilted his head further, eyes squinting. Then he straightened and chuckled, lips quirking up in amusement. "Somehow, I don't believe that's true." The Dom picked his glass up and lifted it to his lips, throwing back the caramel colored liquid with a flick of his wrist. "What are you looking for?"

Dean frowned at the statement, wondering if he should be offended. "Just a whipping, or paddling. Anything like that."

"Sex?"

"Uh, if you want," Dean smirked.

"No, thank you." The Dom turned away, eyes flashing over to the only empty play stage. It was raised about a foot off the ground and had multiple bolts in the ground. And it was dark, none of the above lights on considering no one was there. "Go over to stage seven, remove your clothing, fold it and set it on the table, then kneel on the pillow." Stage seven was owned by the club owner's brother.

"Dude, we're not allowed over there."

"Boy," the Dom growled, disappointment clear in his voice. "I gave you an order. Follow it."

Dean clenched his jaw, nerves eating away at his insides. He could get in a lot of trouble if he went over there. "No."

"Then leave." The Dom began to turn away. "Either follow my orders or get lost. I'm not in the mood for a brat."

"I'm not-" Dean cut himself off and sighed. He chewed his inner cheek and stood from his stool, clearing his throat. Dammit, he was desperate. "Okay.. I'll-" He looked away and then started towards the stage, climbing up the stairs and walking to a table pushed against the wall and full of cuffs and chains and rope and whips and canes and so much more.

Dean glanced behind himself at the crowd that barely paid him any attention, and then back at the table. He removed his clothes quickly and loosely folded them, dropping them onto an empty corner of the table. He stepped away and moved towards a black pillow placed conveniently on the floor, he knelt down on it and folded his hands behind his back.

The moment he did, the lights above flickered on and multiple pairs of eyes flashed towards him, curious and shocked that stage seven was actually being used for once. He swallowed and bowed his head, closing his eyes. He breathed deeply, trying to push away the feel of their lusty intrigued gazes.

"Hey," Dean lifted his head and turned to the right, spotting a big, beefy security guard heading towards him. "You're not-"

"Leave," the Dom from the bar suddenly appeared behind the guard, and leveled him with a cool stare. The security guards eyes widened and he immediately looked apologetic.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Novak," he gasped, stepping away. He glanced at Dean and then hurried away, heading towards the hallway leading to the backrooms and offices.

Mr. Novak, huh? That meant this man was Lucifer's younger brother, James Novak. James walked towards him, and Dean realized he had taken his jacket off and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. And damn, he looked a lot hotter. The stubble and bedhead and unbuttoned shirt and rolled sleeves made him look like an incredibly hot librarian. Christ, talk about a man worthy of a wet dream.

James stepped up beside him and Dean quickly lowered his gaze and turned his head straight, lowering it as well. James didn't make a sound as he walked around him, eyeing him with a gaze that was twenty percent approving and eighty percent judging. 

A hand stroked his hair, and he gasped, tensing and lifting his gaze. He felt the tremor of initial fear disappear and he flushed in embarrassment, lowering his head and eyes. James had an indifferent look on his face, like he was bored or disinterested.

"Stay relaxed, boy," James said, his gravelly voice sending shivers down Dean's spine. Dean nodded obediently, closing his eyes as the hand in his hair dipped down to the back of his neck and squeezed. "Good." His chest warmed at the slight praise. "Let's go over a few rules, boy."

The Dom let go of his neck, and walked around him slowly, his gaze heavy and strong. Dean forced his body to stay still and not twitch, clenching his wrist tightly to help himself. He heard a chuckle, from James, he assumed, and frowned, wondering if he was laughing at him.

"First, you shall address me as Sir," James began. "Second, you will only speak when spoken to. Third, you will do everything I tell you without hesitation. Fourth, we will be using stoplight. If you need to safeword, do not hesitate. What are your safewords?"

"Red, yellow, green, sir."

"Good, I'll be checking in with you every little while. I won't be using a gag on you, so there's no need to worry about non-verbal safewords. Do you have any questions?"

"No, sir."

"Hmm," the Dom stepped in front of him, revealing fancy dress shoes to his lowered gaze. "Stand." Dean loosened his arms, letting go of his wrist but not moving his arms to his sides. He stood and spreads his legs, once more grabbing his wrist tightly. "Hands out." He held his hands out in front of himself, palm down.

The blue eyed man moved his arms from behind his back, revealing a pair of padded black buckle cuffs with double D rings. He easily buckled them onto Dean's wrists, making sure they are secure and tight. The Dom stepped back, but Dean didn't lower his arms, there was no order given for such. After a moment, James smiled and began to walk around him again.

"You may lower your arms." He obeyed, letting them fall into a relaxed position on either side of himself. James walked in front of him again, with two more sets of identical cuffs and a cock ring. He knelt and made quick work of sliding the ring onto Dean's half-hard member. Then he buckled one set of cuffs just above his knees and the other around his ankles, all tight and secure. These cuffs were different than the one's on his wrists, while the wrist cuffs had D rings on one side - the inner part, the thigh and ankle cuffs had D rings on either side.

James stood and walked away again, stepping up behind him seconds later and adjusting a spreader bar between his ankles, forcing him to stand with his feet a little less than a meter apart. Then he attached another bar just behind his thighs, forcing him to keep his knees apart at half a meter.

"Color?"

"Green, sir," Dean answered immediately, breathing deeply. The Dom didn't reply, instead placing his hands on Dean's hips and carefully guiding him backwards a few feet then turning him around so they faced each other, and the crowd was behind Dean. He lifted Dean's hands one by one and attached the wrist cuffs to a chain hanging from above. A moment later the chain was lifted and Dean was forced onto his toes.

"I'm going to flog you. Do you have any places you'd rather I not hit?"

"Face, arms, below the knee and lower back, sir," Dean kept his gaze on the ground, still breathing deeply. James hummed again and stepped away, picking up a black and red [Diamond-Handled Flogger](http://www.stockroom.com/Diamond-Handle-Flogger-P1477.aspx) - with at least twenty-five tails that were half an inch wide and square tipped - and testing it. He turned to Dean, stepping closer so he could see it properly. He flicked his wrist, letting him see the way it moved.

"Can you handle this?"

"Yes, sir." Dean shuddered as he slowly, lightly dragged it over Dean's stomach and thighs, allowing him to feel it.

"Good. You may be as loud as you like, but do not jerk around too much. I have exceptional aim but I would hate to strike you somewhere unplanned." It was a threat. And it was as much arousing as nerve racking.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Dean closed his eyes as James walked around him. He braced himself for a hit, but it never came. He kept his tense position until it hurt his body to maintain it, and so he slumped, unwillingly relaxing. A moment later, a sharp hit came across his thighs, and he moaned, his body jerking a little.

"Turn to the side." Dean struggled but managed to turn to the left so his left side faced James and the majority of the crowd. "Good." From the corner of his eye, he saw James pull his arm back and flick it towards him. He assumed it was headed for his ass, but he didn't realize it was going for the middle of his back. Dean grunted, hissing through his teeth.

The next hits were so random that they made his head spin when he struggled to think where they were going. James didn't increase the pressure one bit, letting the whip hit him with only a small amount of strength behind it. Dean couldn't stop the small whine that left him, and though he knew no one heard it, he still felt embarrassed for it. He slumped, letting himself be held up by the chain and not caring about the way the cuffs dug into his skin.

That was when the blows got harder, snapping against his skin with a hidden strength. He gasped, arching and crying out multiple times as he was thoroughly flogged over the outer and front part of his thighs, his stomach and chest and back. James didn't hit his inner thighs, his cock or balls or his ass. And it was incredibly frustrating.

Too soon, it was over. And James was walking towards him. He stopped in front of him, gently cupping his jaw and lifting his head. Dean blinked at him, panting softly. "What's your color, boy?"

"Green, sir," he rasped, watching a small smile spread his lips, disappearing as fast as it appeared. James let go of him, but Dean struggled to keep his head up so he could watch. James set the flogger on the table, and picked up a riding crop and paddle. He stepped up in front of Dean and held the crop up horizontal.

"Open." Dean opened his mouth and accepted the crop, biting down on it. "If it's too much, let the crop fall and safeword." Dean nodded in understanding. "Walk yourself backwards." Dean struggled but he managed to tiptoe backwards until he was forced to lean forward. "More." He bit the crop to stop a glare and obeyed. "Good."

The Dom disappeared behind him, and Dean heard the distinctive sound of chains. He glanced down at his ankles and watched as James hooked the chain to the D rings on the outer rings of the ankle cuffs before pulling them taut and attaching them to the ground, forcing Dean to practically hang in the air, only the very tip of his big toes brushing the smooth wood below.

It was hard to keep his body straight, but he managed to do a decent job. Or so he though. James didn't. James picked up a leather belt with rings and attached it around his hips, securing it tightly. He snapped his fingers and a moment later Dean felt chains being hooked onto the outside rings. His hips were raising into the air until the cuffs were pulling almost painfully on his ankles.

His ass was up and presented for all too see, set at just above waist height for a six foot man. Dean's shoulders quickly began to ache for the position and his hips hurt from the way the leather and a couple extra rings dug into the flesh surrounding.

The paddle touched his cheeks and he shuddered. It moved over each cheek slowly, stroking his skin, then it dipped down to his thighs. With feather like strokes it touched the backs of his thighs and the insides. Then it was gone. 

A hand appeared on his back, gently pressing into the warm skin, as if to sooth or ground him. Dean let his head hang between his arms and bit hard on the crop, breathing loudly as he readied himself for a hit. Dean heard it before he felt it. A sharp crack breaking through the air and slamming into him, his body jerked and then he felt an immense amount of pain on his right cheek. Dean groaned, tugging at the binds. He curled his toes as another identical hit came down on his other cheek, hissing through his teeth and the crop, his body jerking again.

Then, Dean was grateful for the hand on his back, because it made him feel safe and it told him to be still and good and it also silently asked him to trust James. He could trust James, if only until this was done. Dean closed his eyes and breathed heavily as another crack sounded and a hit came down on the back of his sensitive left thigh. A few more hits came down in quick succession, sending waves of pain and excitement through him.

Dean felt his body slowly becoming loose, and his mind began to drift. His worries disappearing and his thoughts becoming nothing. He slumped in his binds, suddenly grateful for the belt around his hips even if it dug into his skin and would leave bruises later. He was absently aware of the throb in his cock but didn't really care about it, more entranced by his ass than cock.

James stopped hitting him and just gently rubbed the paddle over his hot ass and thighs before disappearing. The hand slowly slid off his back and disappeared completely as well. Dean opened his eyes, staring down with a blurry gaze. He waited as patiently as he could, and he waited some more, and some more. But nothing came. 

Suddenly, there were multiple cracks in the air and immense and immediate pain spreading across his ass and thighs. Dean cried out around the crop, tears glazing his eyes and threatening to fall. The pain absorbed him, making him float and grounding him at the same time.

The Dom worked him over thoroughly, hitting the tops of his cheeks and his sit spots and his inner thighs. The hits were even more brutal on his ass than thighs, for which he was grateful and then not. He writhed in his binds, a few tears and probably snot and drool sliding down his face and neck and splattering onto the floor. And still, his cock was shamefully hard and throbbing and dripping precum onto his leg and the wood below.

Dean felt a new need building deep inside him, and another need being filled for the first time in what felt like years. James stopped paddling him and walked in front of him, cupping his face once more, stroking his cheek gently. "What color are you, boy?" He asked, flipping the paddle upside down in his hand and removing the crop with the same hand.

"G-green," he slurred, coughing and sniffing lightly. "Sir." Dean felt pleasantly high on endorphins, body loose and floating - literally.

James hummed in response, wiping away his tears. "Would you like to come?"

"Please," he moaned, trembling vaguely. James smiled indulgently and stepped away, putting the paddle away but not the crop. He returned and once more had Dean hold it in his mouth. Then Dean was slowly lowered and the belt around his hips was removed. He tiredly glanced up as his arms were moved backwards and half-watched as the chain pulled him back and up until the cuffs tried to pull him down and it was too painful.

He was only a foot off the ground, he realized, but it felt like more. The Dom stepped close and removed both spreader bars and the thigh cuffs and cock ring, dropping them onto the table close by. He then took the crop from Dean's mouth and swung it in the air a few times, testing. He looked back at Dean, locking eyes with him and grinned, ferally. It was then Dean suddenly realized the crop was firm tipped, meaning when it struck, it wasn't going to bend or anything of the sort, it was going to strike the designated spot and it was going to sting like a bitch.

"I'm going to hit your little cock until you orgasm."

James didn't ask if he was okay with it, didn't bother waiting for a reply. He just lifted his hand and slapped his cock with the end of the crop. Dean jerked his legs and tugged at his arms, arching his back and crying out at the sharp pain. The hits came fast and hard and felt absolutely  _divine._  James hit his cock and balls and taint and his inner thighs, he even hit above his cock and his lower abdomen. And occasionally, when he went for his taint, he hit his delectably sore ass and it earned him a sharp cry and hard thrust. Sometimes, he switched sides, moving left and right, but he favored the right more - he was right handed after all.

The hits bordered on too intense, too much. But then James hit a spot just behind his balls and Dean just about screamed as he came. Head thrown back, shoulders and arms trying to come down and knees bending as he tried to curl in on himself. His cock jerked around, thick and long splatters of white shooting out and painting the wood white. He shook from pain and pleasure and moaned over and over, thrusting his hips continuously.

And then his legs were being uncuffed and body lowered, wrist cuffs quickly following the ankle cuffs and ending up on the floor. Dean was then wrapped up in James' arms and he buried himself into the Dom, shaking.

"Shh. You did so well," James murmured, slowly forcing him to walk and guiding him down the short stairs and towards the backrooms. He stumbled along, weak and barely aware and just wanting to curl up and sleep. James opened a door and led him towards a bed. He made him lay on his stomach - and though it hurt his cock and thighs, it was better than being on his backside - while he went to fetch some things.

Dean closed his eyes, limp and pliant against the sheets and very easy to take advantage of. He briefly wondered if James would, but then thought against it. The man didn't seem the type.

James came back and ran a hand through his hair. "Hey, come on. Can you get up?" Dean groaned and tried, falling back against the bed. James chuckled, or Dean thought he did, and then the bed dipped and shifted and Dean was being gently dragged up and into a pair of arms and against a warm chest. He sighed and tried to bury himself deeper into the warmth, rubbing his cheek against smooth fabric.

He felt something press against his lips and blinked his eyes open, staring cross eyed down at a small juice box that said Five Alive. He parted his lips and let the straw be pushed inside, then weakly sucked on it, his mouth exploding with different flavors and moistening. He swallowed and was quietly relieved when the juice soothed his sore throat.

He sucked and swallowed until there was nothing left to drink and then pulled his head away, licking his lips and relaxing against James. James stroked his scalp and neck, massaging gently and soothing him. Dean sighed softly and closed his eyes.

His muscles were sore, both pleasantly and unpleasantly. His lower half burned hot with pain and he felt every pulse his heart gave in his entire body. And his mind was calm and satisfied and the burning need he had felt for the past month was gone and replaced with a warm, satiated fuzzy feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: Spanking: Flogging, Paddling, Riding Crop. Cuffs. Spreader Bars. Chains. Suspension. Cock Ring. Public Scene. Aftercare.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy~

**Castiel**

Castiel strolled across the floor to the nigh empty bar, sitting down on one of the stools and crossing his legs. He locked eyes with Benny, and the man nodded, grabbing a bottle of top shelf Whisky and a glass and walking over to him as he filled it. He set it down on the counter and leaned his elbows on the surface, an easy grin appearing.

"How ya doin', Cas?" Benny asked, setting the bottle down on the bar top.

"I'm well." Castiel sipped his drink, relishing in the sweet burn that came as it went down. "Do you know if Henry will be here today?"

"Henry?"

"The spiky haired man that I had a scene with last week?"

"Oh, you mean Dean?" Castiel frowned and lifted the glass, flicking his wrist and swallowing the majority of the liquid within.

"He said his name was Henry."

Benny grimaced. "Yeah, uh, sorry. It's... Dean. He just, he's very cautious. Sorry, brother."

"Hmm." Castiel looked out into the small crowed of people lounging around, waiting until the real party started. He saw a familiar leather jacket and green eyes and brownish-blond hair and smirked. "When  _Dean_ comes over, tell him that if he wishes to scene with me, he can wait patiently on stage seven."

"Sure, brother," Benny said as he refilled Castiel's glass. Castiel nodded and stood, taking his glass with him as he headed for the backrooms. He leaned against a dark wall that had a good view of the bar, swallowing small sips from his glass. "Oh, hey." Castiel hummed softly to himself, a mischievous sparkle entering his gaze as he watched Dean and Benny.

"Hey, Benny," Dean's familiar baritone replied, sounding tired.

"You don't sound so good. What somethin', chief?" Benny asked, moving glass around.

"Nah."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, Benny," Dean sighed. "Hey... is, uh..."

"Someone available? Yeah, Cas said if you wanted to scene, go wait on stage seven."

"Cas?"

Benny snorted, amused. "Castiel? Novak?"

"Oh. James?"

"Yeah. Don't call him that. Doesn't like it," Benny moved around then set a glass of water down in front of Dean.

"Thanks. And okay. Castiel, huh?"

"Cas," Benny corrected, halfheartedly wiping the bar top. "Finish your water then head over to the stage."

"Uh-huh," Dean sipped from the glass, and they both watched Benny move down the bar to serve someone else. Dean glanced around then slumped his shoulders, picking at the gold band around his wrist - the one that said he was one-hundred percent sober. It wasn't something people normally cared about anymore, they knew the rules and weren't about to break them... but most did sneak in a drink or two, just enough to calm themselves or something like that, not enough to make them even a little tipsy. He looked back at the stage then the array of liquor bottles then at the band, a disappointed frown appearing.

A red-headed female in a beautiful leather corset that pushed up her breasts nicely, fishnet stockings and boots with a five inch heel that laced up in the back to the middle of her thighs strolled over to Dean and sat down beside him, a grin on her face. A naked girl with curly brownish-blonde hair and skin the color of a medium tan, arms bound with a red armbinder, appeared behind her, standing a few feet away with her head bowed.

"Hey, Dean." The red-head said. Dean tilted his head to look at her and then smiled, big and warm.

"Hey, Charlie," he said, turning to her. He glanced at the naked girl and huffed. "Hi, Gilda."

The girl glanced at Charlie, who nodded, then looked at Dean. "Hello, Dean. How are you?"

"Fantastic," Dean smirked, all fake. Castiel narrowed his eyes, watching them. "How are you guys?"

"We're good," Charlie answered, scrutinizing him suspiciously. "You, ah, you need anything?"

Dean laughed, a small smirk appearing, and shook his head. "Nah, I got someone. Thanks, though," he said, drinking from his glass of water. Charlie frowned and looked back at her sub.

"I don't mind, Dean. And I'm sure Gilda wouldn't mind having a partner either."

"Seriously, Charlie. I got someone. I'm not lying."

"Oh, really? What's his name?"

"How do you know it's not a girl?"

Charlie raised a disbelieving brow. "Are you honestly telling me that you found a female dominant with enough strength to give  _exactly_ you what you want?" Dean flinched and looked away. "So who is he?"

"Ja-uh, Castiel," Dean swallowed a large gulp of water, his gaze turned down to the counter, so he missed the way Charlie's eyes widened and a slight smirk appeared on her face. Castiel tilted his head, curious as to why that was.

"Castiel, huh? As in Novak?" Dean nodded, still not lifting his head. "You do know that he's not gonna fuck you, right?"

"What do you mean?" Dean did look up then, his brows furrowed and a scowl appearing. Castiel stood straight, smoothing a hand down his buttoned shirt.

"Everyone knows he's asexual," Charlie frowned deeper, eyes flickering over him.

"A-what?"

"Asexual, you dork," Charlie rolled her eyes. "As in he doesn't need or like sexual... anything."

"Then why is he a Dom?"

Charlie glared at him now. "He can be a Dom if he wants to be one. You don't have to be sexually active to be one. It's not required. Not for a Dom, not for a sub."

"Right... sorry," Dean played with his glass of water, lips pressed into a thin line.

Charlie looked at Gilda and gestured her closer, pulling her to sit on her lap when she was within reach. She turned back to Dean after that, and watched him. "What happened, Dean?"

Dean scoffed and looked at her with a smile so fake, it was painful to look at. "Nothing, Charles. Don't worry about it."

"Technically we're in a territory where it would be alright for me to bend you over my knee and beat your ass for lying, but Gilda is in the way and I don't feel like letting her go. So I'll ask you one more time, what happened?"

Dean bit his lip and turned his body away, facing forward. His shoulders hunched slightly, and he clenched his hands. Charlie wouldn't be able to get away with punishing Dean without his consent, and Castiel highly doubt she would anyways, but it was still a good threat.

"Just some shit at work, okay? It's rough right now and it's taking its toll on me," Dean finally said, lifting his gaze to stare longingly at the bottles of alcohol.

"I'm sorry, Dean. Anything I can do to help?"

"Nah," Dean swallowed a little more water then stood. "I should... go to the stage." Charlie nodded, giving him a small smile and watched him walk past the new crowds of people and head up to the empty stage reserved for Castiel.

Gilda looked at Charlie, who furrowed her brows. "What?"

"I hope he's okay," Gilda said, shifting her body. Charlie nodded as if to say 'me too.'

Castiel turned his attention away from them and to the now lit stage, eyeing the naked Dean as he knelt raised above everyone else, head lowered but clearly uncomfortable with the intense stares from other patrons.

He finished his drink and walked over to the bar, dropping the glass onto the table close to Charlie, flashing her curios stare a smile and strolling over to the stage, removing his jacket and undoing his tie and rolling up his sleeves as he did. Castiel skipped up the steps and threw his blazer and tie over the table, inspecting the items set out for a moment. 

Castiel walked over to Dean, stepping in front of the man and crouched. He reached forward and slipped two fingers under his chin, lifting his head and locking eyes with him. "Hello, Dean," he resisted a smile at the way he tensed. "I don't appreciate lying."

"I'm sorry-"

"It's alright. I understand why you did it." Castiel smirked then, small but there. "Do you have any requests for tonight?" Dean paused to think then, and he let him, watching quietly as he furrowed his brows and frowned and looked down at the floor as he thought.

"No, just nothing... like scat or something," Dean grimaced, swallowing hard enough that Castiel felt it.

Castiel frowned and made him lift his head again, looking him in the eye. "I never did ask you what you were alright with doing. So tell me, what are your limits?"

"Scat, urine, watersports, anything permanent, another Dom joining in," Dean listed them off, looking like he was mentally ticking them off with his finger. Castiel nodded and dropped his hand.

"Of course. Would you prefer to continue using stoplight or would you like a different safeword?"

"Different."

"What word?"

"Poughkeepsie," he answered, and Castiel nodded again.

"Poughkeepsie." Castiel repeated, pursing his lips. "Good. Just so you know, I don't like any of those things," he said, referring to the limits Dean had said. Dean nodded slightly.

Castiel eyed him for a while longer then stood and walked to the table, reaching underneath and taking out a thin roll out mattress. He opened it and rolled it out onto the floor then went back to the table and grabbed four cuffs and chains. He hooked one chain to each cuff and then knelt at one corner of the mattress. He secured the chain to the floor and tugged hard, testing its give. It wasn't much. Then he did the same in the other three corners.

Finally, he stood and stepped away, walking over to one of the assistants idly standing along the back wall. "Get me a bowl of ice chips and another of boiling water and a medicine dropper."

"Medicine dropper, sir?" The female asked in confusion, eyebrows furrowing together.

"Eyedropper?"

"Oh, of course," she flushed in embarrassment and quickly walked off. Castiel walked back to the mattress.

"Come here, Dean," he ordered, watching as the man stood and walked over to him, stopping at the end of the mattress with his legs spread and hands behind his back. "Lay down and I'll cuff you."

Dean dropped his arms then lowered his body, crawling onto the soft bedding before turning onto his back and making himself comfortable, body spread into a star. Castiel knelt beside him and made quick work of securing his wrists and ankle with the cuffs. "Good?" Dean tugged on them then nodded, slumping on the bed again. "Are you alright with being blindfolded?"

"Yes, sir," Dean answered, closing his eyes. Castiel stood and walked over to the table and picked up his tie, turning it around for a few minutes then heading back to Dean. He knelt by his head and lifted it, laying the tie over the man's closed eyes and securing it to the side of his head, so he could rest comfortably. He sat back and debated on using earmuffs on Dean then decided against it, one deprived sense was enough - for now.

Castiel looked up when the assistant returned and set the bowls and dropper on the table before returning to her place. He stood and picked them up, setting them a safe but reachable distance from the mattress. He found a feather, a strip of leather and silk, and an unused red pillar candle that sat on a holder, which he also set beside the bowls. He lit the candle with a match then sat between Dean's spread knees.

He brushed his hands gently over Dean's knees, using his nails to scratch over his thighs and hips and groin over and over. Dean's breathing increased marginally, and he watched as he shifted his hips a little, cock starting to harden. Castiel removed his hands and picked up the piece of silk, he stretched it out taut and lowered it to Dean's cock.

Dean jumped and gasped, a dribble of precum appearing from the tip of his cock. Castiel gently and slowly rubbed it over his member, making sure to stroke all the sensitive spots. He used it to massage his balls as well, a tiny smile appearing as Dean squirmed and tried to suppress little moans. He pulled it away completely, watching as Dean arched for it, seeking the soft fabric again.

Castiel folded it and carefully brushed it against one of his nipples, eliciting a shudder and groan. He repeated the action with the other, gently stroking his nipple with the fabric. Then he dragged it down his stomach, forcing a small breathy laugh from Dean's lips. He let it flutter against the man's thighs, earning little shakes.

"Can you tell me what that was?" Castiel asked, pulling away completely and watching Dean arch towards him, tugging at the cuffs holding him still.

"F-fabric?" Dean tried after a moment, eyes moving behind the tie.

"What kind?"

"Sat-Satin?"

"Close. Try again."

"Silk?"

"Good boy," Castiel answered, and Dean moaned, wiggling his hips.

Castiel glanced around himself, his eyes lighting up when he saw all the men and women surrounding the stage, majority lazily pleasuring themselves or others or both. And then he spotted Charlie, with Gilda at her feet. They locked eyes for a moment, each scrutinizing the other, but Castiel turned away when Dean whined low with need.

"Don't be a greedy bitch."

There was a particularly loud chuckle from one of the audience members and Dean stilled and his cheeks turning red, his head turning away. Castiel tossed the silk to the side and picked up the feather, twirling it between his fingers. He decided against it then, and placed it on the floor again. He picked up the small bowl of hot water and the dropper . He squeezed the small instrument and watched the water get sucked into the small tube.

Castiel lowered the bowl a little and held the end of the dropper a few inches above the head of Dean's cock. He squeezed gently and watched as one little drop slid out the end and hit the head. Dean jerked and inhaled sharply, trying to shift away. It was no doubt hot, and uncomfortable and he smirked.

He continued to drop little balls of water down the underside of his cock and did it to his balls in random places, listening as Dean made little noises of distress, and maybe a little pleasure. He did it once to each nipple then set the dropper and bowl down, no longer very interested in continuing.

Castiel took one of the ice chips and rubbed it against one of Dean's nipples, earning a shocked cry. As he switched to the other nipple, he leaned down and blew cool air across the hard nub. Dean moaned and tried to move away, bringing his arms and legs towards his body - or attempting to at least. Castiel took the ice chip into his mouth and slowly dragged over Dean's abdomen, letting it melt away to nothing.

Then he took another into his mouth and brushed it against one of Dean's hips, teasing him by going dangerously close to where his cock was resting on his abdomen. Dean squirmed, stuck between laughing and whimpering it sounded like. Castiel dragged the ice over Dean's right thigh, making sure to linger in places Dean was more vocal. Once it melted, he took another and repeated the process to the other side.

"Do not move," he ordered, picking up a chip and slowly placing it on one of his balls. Dean groaned and his legs shook but he obediently didn't try to get it off. Castiel placed another on the other ball and then began making a little line of them on the underside of his cock. Once he finished that, he leaned down and began to breathe hot air, starting from his balls and working his way up to the tip.

Dean made pitiful sounds yet his cock remained hard and pulsing with need, which was intriguing considering there were several pieces of ice melting slowly on him. Castiel used his teeth to take the almost melted pieces of ice from his balls and braced himself above Dean, leaning close to his ear and crunching them as loud as he could. Dean shuddered and turned to face him, face scrunching up in dislike. He crunched them completely and then swallowed and licked Dean's jawbone, letting him feel his cold tongue.

Castiel sat back and removed the pieces of ice that hadn't completely melted, dropping them into the bowl and pushing it away. He picked up the melted candle and held it above Dean's left thigh. He tilted the handle and watched it splatter onto the white skin. "Shit!" Dean yelped, jerking and lifting his head like he could see past the blindfold.

Castiel hummed and dripped wax from the first spot to his balls, watching him squirm and jerk around and listening to his curses and hisses of pain. He let it drip a little on the base of his cock before straightening the candle and leaning forward, holding it above one of his nipples. He watched Dean calm down, breathing deeply and eventually relaxing and then Castiel tilted the candle and moved his hand from side to side, equally coating the wax between and on both nipples. It made Dean whine and thrash again but it made him moan in a pleasure a little as well.

He let the rest of the melted wax fall onto Dean's stomach then blew the candle out and set it aside, sitting back and watching him calm down again. Castiel picked up the feather and watched him for a moment. He reached one hand out and used his nail to scrape a little of the wax off of his thigh, watching it fall to the mattress. Dean's thigh tensed under his fingers but then relaxed. Keeping him distracted, he used his other hand to reach over with the feather and carefully brushed the tip over Dean's side.

Dean burst out laughing immediately, squirming around, a smile appearing on his face. Castiel stroked the feather over the most ticklish places in the human body; under his arms, his neck and his sides, his inner thighs and behind his knees. He even did it a little under his feet but Dean jerked around too much for that to be a good one. Dean laughed loudly, begging him to stop. He laughed so hard he drooled and cried, tears soaking into the tie and even escaping from underneath it.

Castiel pulled away, watching as he continued laughing breathlessly and tried to calm down, but the smile didn't leave his face. Dean panted loudly, slumping down with little laughs that made no sound but shook his body. Castiel set the feather down and picked up the piece of leather, turning it over in his hands and debating on if he should use it. He looked at Dean, watching as he still shook with laughs then shook his head internally. No, he wouldn't use it this time.

Castiel stood, and stretched and shook his legs a little, then picked up the feather and silk and dropper and candle and walked to the table, setting them all down. He returned and grabbed the bowls, placing them on the table as well. He knelt between Dean's legs again and wrapped his hand around Dean's cock.

Dean moaned loudly and rocked his hips up, seeking movement. Castiel used Dean's precum and the melt ice water as lube, and began to slowly jerk him. Dean groaned and rocked his hips in time with him, little gasps and moans and the occasional whimper escaping him. Castiel watched him closely, waiting for his thighs to tremble and his balls to draw up and his back to arch and cock to leak an almost unnatural amount of precum to pull his hand away.

"Fuck, no, no, please," Dean whined, bucking his hips and trying to get off. Castiel tilted his head, waiting until he was calm enough before wrapping his hand around him and stroking him again. Dean moaned in delight, once more beginning to rock his hips in time with Castiel's strokes. And once more, Castiel stopped just when Dean was on the edge. "Please! Not- not again!" Dean practically sobbed.

Castiel let him calm down then wrapped his hand around his base again, but this time he leaned his head down and gingerly licked the wet tip. Dean arched and cried out and tried to buck up but he held him down with his free hand. Castiel sucked the tip into his mouth, working him thoroughly before swallowing another inch, followed by another, and another, and another, until his lips touched his thumb and forefinger.

Dean trembled and squirmed beneath him, breathing heavily and moaning even louder. Castiel slowly pulled off his cock, following his lips with his hand. He stopped at the tip then swallowed him down again. He pulled off then went back down. He did it over and over, keeping the pace incredibly slow and taunting Dean.

"C-come? Can-" Dean gasped, unable to speak. "Plea-"

Castiel pulled off completely and licked his lips. "Yes, you may," he went back to work then, picking up his pace and sucking as hard as he dared. Dean shakily breathed and Castiel knew the exact moment his orgasm started. His thighs trembled and his cock pulsed a second before semen shot out the tip. Castiel swallowed around him, gently working him through the orgasm and calming him down. He let go before it could get to much for his sensitive member.

Castiel sat back and unbuckled Dean's ankles then stood and walked to his head and undid the wrist cuffs. Then he gently untied the tie and tossed it to the side, looking at Dean's closed eyes and slumped body. "Come on, Dean." Castiel took his hands and pulled him to his feet, holding him as he steadied himself. He watched Dean slowly open his eyes and grimace, blinking slowly and trying to see. "Good?" Dean nodded.

Castiel helped him off the stage and led him to the backrooms, guiding him into room seven and onto the bed. "I'll be right back, Dean," the man nodded and he walked to the little fridge. Castiel opened it and pulled out a small box of Minute Maid apple juice and closed the white fridge. He took a banana from the basket on top of the fridge and straightened himself.

Castiel walked back over to Dean and sat on the edge beside him. He set the banana on the nightstand and opened the juice box, adjusting the straw before setting it beside the banana. "Up, Dean," Dean groaned and reluctantly sat up, sliding away from the edge so Castiel could undo the blankets. Castiel kicked his shoes off and slipped under the comforter, guiding Dean under the blankets and between his legs, letting him relax with his back to Castiel's chest before tucking the covers around them.

"Drink this for me." He took the juice box and held it in front of Dean's lips, watching as he leaned his head forward and wrapped his lips around the straw, sucking down the liquid slowly. Castiel pulled it away when it was half empty and set it on the table, ignoring Dean's slight pout. Castiel opened the banana and held it to Dean's mouth. "Eat at least half of this."

Dean scrunched his face up but didn't say anything, opening his mouth and biting off a small piece. He immediately bit off a bigger piece once he swallowed and he managed to eat three quarters of it before he'd had enough. Castiel let the skin wrap around the rest and set it on the table, picking up the juice again and holding it for Dean to drink.

Once he was finished he set it on the table and adjusted the pillows behind himself, relaxing for a while. He would have to clean Dean up of the wax, and maybe he'd massage him, but for right now, he was content to just sit here with the sleepy young man in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: Sensation play: blindfold; feather, silk, wax, water, ice. Handjob. Blowjob. Public scene. Cuffs. Chains. Minor praise kink. Edging. Aftercare.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy~
> 
> I feel like turning this into a real story but at the same time not. Lmao. _The whole thing is terrible. Lol_
> 
> Excuse the mistakes please! And if you want, point any out! Thank you! <3

**Dean**

Dean strolled past the bodyguards at the door, nodding a greeting at them and headed for the bar, pushing past people standing about and chatting. It was packed tonight, probably because today had been a holiday but damn, it was busy. Thankfully, even though it was busy, the bar wasn't packed. More people interested in doing a scene rather than drinking.

He plopped down on a stool and waved at Benny who was finishing up someone's drink. The man nodded at him, acknowledging him. Dean turned his chair and stared out into the crowd, trying to find some free Dom with strong looking body. He wanted a good beating, or an ass hurting so bad he felt it for the whole week.

His boss had been an asshole lately, hounding him with more work than he was required to do. So much work that he'd had to stay longer than usual and he didn't even get paid for any of it. It fucking sucked. Everything sucked. He just wanted to let go of everything, and he couldn't do that at work where he had responsibilities so it was easy to do it here, where all that was expected of him was to suck a dick or take a spanking.

"Dean," Benny greeted from behind him. He spun around and flashed the burly man a smile, earning one in return. "How are you?"

"Great. You?"

"I'm good, I'm good," Benny eyed him. His gaze dropped to Dean's wrists then flicked back up to his eyes. "Want a drink?"

"Whisky, double." Dean breathed softly, watching Benny grab a glass and Dean's usual whisky, Grant's, and pour about two fingers worth. "Thanks, man," he said as Benny placed the glass in front of him.

"No problem. Do-"

"Sir!"

Both of them glanced towards the other end of the bar where a man was waving at Benny expectantly. Benny sighed and nodded goodbye to Dean, heading down towards him. Dean rolled his eyes and sipped his drink, sighing slightly when he swallowed.

"Hello, Dean."

He jumped, turning his chair and staring at Castiel with wide eyes. "Jesus," he muttered, breathing a little heavier. "Scared the fuck out of me."

"I apologize." Castiel frowned, taking the seat next to him and sipping from his own glass of whisky. "How are you?"

"I'm fantastic. You?"

"Don't lie." There was an edge to his voice now.

What? Had he answered too fast? Was his voice higher? How the hell did he know Dean lied?

Dean cleared his throat and glanced at Castiel, raising a brow and forcing a chuckle. "I'm not." Castiel just raised a brow in return - one that made him feel small, annoyance darkened his blue eyes, and he continued sipping his whisky in a way that was so utterly calm that it ticked Dean off a little. Dean looked down at his drink, fingering the lip of his glass. Castiel didn't say anything, so the only sound was the slam of glasses, laughter and chatter, moans and cries of pain and pleasure, and the sharp beat of music that wasn't quite loud enough to drown out other people.

What did he say now? Did he apologize for lying and blurt out the truth? How his job was the shittiest thing in the world and it was eating away at him? How he could barely handle the stupid shit his boss Zachariah Adler did? Like making him redo a document that took him the whole day, right at the end of his day and not paying him for the overtime? How the man made snide comments about him to others or passed a comment when passing him in the hall?

That was too personal though.

Castiel's gaze was heavy on him, and it felt almost like he was drowning in a pool of blue water. And he wasn't even looking at the guy! Dean swallowed down the rest of his whisky and pushed the glass away from himself before he got tempted to ask Benny for another. If he had another he'd never be able to not have another after that, and another... and another...

"Dean," he shuddered at the smooth, low tone.

"Yeah?"

"Come here."

Dean looked up, seeing Castiel had finished his drink and set his glass down, and his legs were spread as he leaned against the back of his stool. Dean carefully stood up and stepped closer, mouth drying up as Castiel tugged him closer and between his legs, arms sliding around his abdomen and bringing their crotches and chests flush against each other. Castiel's face was incredibly close, and Dean could feel his hot whisky scented breath on his cheek, and he could make out all the little lines of age that just added to his charming appearance.

A hand cupped his cheek and a thumb stroked over his cheekbone gently, tenderly. Rough lips brushed against his ear, blowing hot air into the canal and sending shivers through him. "Relax, Dean, and let go. I got you."

Dean swallowed, eyes sliding shut and dropped his head onto Castiel's left shoulder, enjoying the way his hand slid from his cheek to the hair at the back of his head. He hesitantly set his hands on Castiel's chest and relaxed his body into him. Castiel's hand slid under his jacket and the layers of clothing beneath it, fingers brushing over his spine before his hand laid flat against his hip and pressed him impossibly closer to the man.

It was almost possessive, and that's what made Dean let out a quiet, shaky breath.

"May I kiss you?" Castiel asked softly, breath puffing against his ear.

"I thought," Dean cleared his throat and tried again. "I thought you didn't like that stuff."

"Sex," Castiel drawled. "I dislike. Kissing, though? I'm partial to it. I may react differently than you, however."

"Won't arouse you?" Dean muttered, tilting his head and brushing his nose against Castiel's neck. The man smelled absolutely divine. Earthy, like a forest after a fresh rain, and spicy, something like cinnamon, and there was also a sweet, tangy scent that he couldn't quite place.

"No, it would not," Castiel's hand trailed upwards, sending tiny shivers and warmth through him.

"Okay."

The hand in his hair gently grasped a few strands and tugged, slowing pulling him back, their cheeks brushing and stubble grazing against each other with a scratchy sound. The sound and feeling forced an almost violent shudder from both of them, but before they could really dwell on it, their lips brushed gently; soft and rough and a little wet and it was perfect.

Dean didn't particularly feel like participating, not that he didn't want to kiss Castiel; he just... wanted to let the other take control. The man didn't seem to mind, his tongue sweeping out and stroking the seam of Dean's lips, wetting them further and silently asking for permission to enter his mouth. Dean parted his lips and let him in, inhaling air through his mouth just before Castiel completely captured his lips and his tongue plunged into his mouth, bringing a rich and malty and smoky taste with it.

Castiel's hand guided his head, moving him just the right way and stroking parts of his lips and mouth with practiced ease. It made him weak in the knees, and suddenly, he was so much more grateful for the warm wrapped around his waist, holding him steady and stable. Dean couldn't hide the guttural moan that escaped, and although it never really escaped his lips, he knew Castiel felt and heard it, if his answering chuckle, so dark and rich, was enough to go by.

The kiss was slow but it was deep and fulfilling and passionate. It aroused Dean, not in a desperate or even heavy sense, but enough that he felt stirrings in his belly and between his thighs. He tried to deepen the kiss, somehow, but Castiel tugged sharply at his hair, pulling him back a touch and reprimanding him at the same time.

Castiel pulled back, letting them both breath, and although it was basically them breathing in the air the other exhaled, it was still better than having hurting lungs. And Dean didn't particularly mind breathing in the air Castiel exhaled, honestly, it smelled like whisky and that wasn't bad at all. He briefly remembered some Dom whose breath had smelled like shit and shuddered.

Castiel's hand slid down his back and wrapped around his waist, joining his other hand. "Would you like anything, Dean?"

A spanking. He wanted a spanking. Long and hard and absolutely unmerciful.

Dean swallowed and nodded, locking gazes with Castiel. "Yeah, uh," he glanced at Castiel's stage, considering. "Spank me?"

"Mm," Castiel hummed, nodding. "O-"

"O-over your knee," Dean flushed at the searching gaze that immediately followed. He clenched his jaw, working the muscles. "And, uh, in private?"

"A private spanking over the knee," Castiel said lowly, an almost growl in his deep baritone. "Have you been bad, Dean? Such a bad boy that you need a good, hard spanking over my knee?" He bristled at the word 'boy', eyes widening and flying to look at Castiel. 

"Uh-..." Fuck, he needed to stop saying that. "Y-yeah?"

"I see," Castiel drawled, dropping his arms and pushing him back lightly. Dean obeyed, stepping away and immediately missing the warmth from Castiel, even if the club was already hot. Castiel turned to Benny, and nodded, pushing his glass closer to the man as he walked over.

Dean watched Benny reach under the table and pull out a bottle of Lagavulin, 16 years, it said. The man poured a little more than half a glass before storing the bottle once more and continuing down the table without a word. "So, you were bad, huh? What did you do?"

"Err," well, at least that wasn't an 'uh'. "I, uh..." Fuck. Dean floundered, completely unsure as to what to say.

Castiel raised a brow and leaned his right elbow on the counter, lounging back against his chair and lifting his glass into the air, moving it from side to side and swishing the amber liquid within. His lips twitched with amusement, but his blue gaze grew darker. "Cat got your tongue?" Dean's face burned further, and he looked down at his feet, shuffling about. Castiel gave a soft, throaty chuckle, sounding thoroughly and genuinely amused by Dean's lack of response.

A hand appeared in his line of vision and he took it without hesitation, letting Castiel pull him forward and spin him around. He ended up with his back pressed against Castiel's chest and his arm wrapped around his waist, still holding his hand. A chin perched on his shoulder, lips dangerously close to his ear.

"Put your hands on my knees." He obeyed, placing his hands on Castiel's knees and gripping the smooth fabric of his slacks carefully. "Good boy." His breathing picked up and he shifted on his feet, gulping when he felt the prick of stubble against his ear. Castiel's hand slid from his side to his leg and then slid over to the left, stopping right above the rapidly growing bulge in his jeans.

Without warning, Castiel suddenly grabbed him through his jeans and he gasped, hips involuntarily bucking into his hand. "Oh fuck," he muttered, cock twitching within the confines of his pants.

"Ah, I see," Castiel clucked his tongue, sounding both understanding and disappointed. "Swearing is a very, very bad habit, Dean. And not only that, it seems your cock is especially jumpy this evening. No worries, though," he laughed, a cruel and dark sound. "I'll give you just what you deserve." He sounded absolutely wicked and it drew an embarrassing whimper from Dean.

Castiel let go of him and pulled away, leaving him cold and needy. "Turn around and lower your pants." Fuck, what? Dean spun around with wide eyes, trying to search Castiel's face and see if he was serious. It was one thing to be on a stage and naked but here, by the bar, there were so many more people and they were so much closer. "Now, Dean."

"I- I..." Dean gulped and looked down, shaky fingers slowly undoing the buckle on his jeans. He looked up at Castiel again, watching as the man lifted his left hand and slowly loosened his tie, pulling it open and sliding it from around his collar. He dropped his hand and raised a brow, gaze flickering between Dean's hands and his face.

Dean flushed and looked down again, quickly opening his belt and undoing his jeans and pushing them down to mid-thigh. He followed it with his boxers, and his cock immediately bobbed free, wet with precum and throbbing red. He looked up again, just in time to watch Castiel throw back his glass of whisky with a skilled wrist and just about slam the glass back down onto the counter. He leaned forward then, giving Dean a toothy grin.

His right hand slid off the table and grasped Dean's cock, stroking it twice before grabbing the base roughly. "Lift your shirt." He obeyed, lifting it high enough that most of his stomach was revealed. "Open your mouth." Dean opened his mouth and bit into the thicker end of the tie when Castiel pushed it inside. Castiel took the thinner end and began to wrap it around the base of his cock, following it by going around the base of his balls and between them and then back to his cock. He tugged the tie from Dean's mouth and tied the two ends together, tight and secure.

Dean shifted uncomfortably, knowing that he wasn't going to be coming until the tie came off. "Isn't this cute?" Castiel murmured, laughing. "I got your little cock on a leash." Dean whimpered and his cock twitched in response, causing Castiel to laugh more. Dean glanced to the right and blushed brightly, because damn, there were so many people looking at them and they were _so close_. "Eyes on me." But he couldn't look at him, so he looked down at his shuffling feet and bit his lip.

Castiel clucked his tongue and slapped his cock hard. Dean gasped and his hips jerked back, only to be pulled back towards Castiel roughly by the tie. "Shit," he groaned, cock pulsing and leaking further.

"Ah, ah, ah," two fingers lifted his chin up, making him raise his gaze as well. "No swearing, Dean. It's bad enough your cock is hard. Don't want to make it worse, do you?" He shook his head, licking his lips almost nervously. "Turn around." He obeyed.

Castiel pulled him closer and pulled Dean's belt from the loops of his jeans, taking his wrists and pulling them behind his back. His shirt fell back down his body and Castiel paused, making a thoughtful sound. Then the belt was being set on the bar counter and Dean's leather jacket and button up and shirt were being removed, tossed onto the table along with the belt. Castiel pulled his arms behind his back again and tied them up with the belt, making sure they were secure and he was unable to even tug them two inches apart.

Castiel spun him around and stood, crowding into his personal space, but Dean didn't move back, he wasn't allowed to. Castiel hummed and stepped to the side, slowly sliding his feet backwards, letting the tie slip through his grasp until the very end was only left.

He stopped then, and tilted his head. There was no warning; no way he could have seen it coming. Castiel suddenly tightened his grip on the tie and yanked, forcing Dean to stumble forward and straight into him with a cry of pain and pleasure. He groaned and pulled his head away, scrunching up his face and wrinkling his nose. He probably wouldn't have stumbled so bad if his pants wasn't around his thighs and his arms weren't bound behind his back.

Castiel gazed behind him and nodded then turned back to Dean. "Come on, boy," he smirked and stepped away, turning and practically dragging Dean towards the backrooms by the tie, uncaring as he staggered after him with a burning red face and neck. He tripped into people and tried to apologize but all that came out was tiny mewl when Castiel pulled harder on the tie. He heard a few of them laugh and another few persons remark on how adorable and hot he was, and he couldn't help but flush further, if that was even possible, which it probably wasn't.

His cock and his balls throbbed from the abuse but he could do nothing but follow. And he was so fucking glad he didn't fall flat on his face, truly. That would have been really, really embarrassing and something he'd never live down.

He slammed into Castiel's back when the man stopped abruptly and groaned as his nose was once again smashed into his - really goddamn hard - body. Castiel let go of the tie and it fell down between Dean's thighs, dangling between his aching cock and balls.

He heard a couple click before a door opened and Castiel moved forward, stepping to the side and gesturing him inside. He stepped inside slowly, looking around as Castiel turned the dim, comfortable light on. It was that room he always brought him to after a scene on the stage. And it was huge.

It was sort of like a normal room, minus the closet or dresser, and with a table with chairs and mini fridge and sink and- okay, so it was almost like a high-class version of a motel room. Nice. Dean's eyes locked on a thick and large bed in the middle of the room with two large nightstands on either side, with four posts and dark navy blue sheets and fluffy pillows that looked so incredibly comfortable that he wanted to jump into them and stay there forever.

"Dean," he turned his head, seeing Castiel was pulling out one of the chairs at the table and turning it towards him. He'd taken his blazer off, and rolled his sleeves up. "Come here." He walked - waddled - over, stopping beside him looking down at the cushioned chair. Castiel stepped away from him and walked across the room to one of the nightstands and opened the bottom drawer, pulling out a bottle and a... paddle.

Fuck, he hated paddles. They hurt like a bitch. Actually, nevermind, he wanted to hurt and he wanted to hurt well.

Castiel returned to him and sat down in the chair, putting the bottle and paddle on the table beside himself. He reached out and leaned down, removing Dean's shoes and socks and placing them under the chair. He helped Dean out of his jeans and boxers next, loosely folding them and placing them on the table. Then he gestured him to turn around and reached between his legs, taking the tie and pulling it between them and up, between his cheeks as well.

Dean shifted uncomfortably, feeling the smooth fabric between his cheeks and liking it, but hating the way it tugged mercilessly at his genitals. Castiel pulled it tie, forcing a pathetic groan from Dean, and attached it to the belt. Then he guided him to the side and over his lap, making sure he was over enough that his feet couldn't touch the ground, nor did his head. Just the perfect place.

He pushed his arms up above the middle of his back, forcing the tie to tug harder and his arms to immediately start aching. "You don't have to count, Dean. You don't have to do anything but lay there and take it. Do not kick, do not struggle, and do not squirm. If you need to safeword, _please_ do not hesitate. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir. We're clear, sir." Dean said, breathing deeply and relaxing his body. "Thank you, sir."

"Get comfortable." He pushed a little at Castiel's hands, and the man's grip loosened, letting Dean lower his arms a bit so they weren't so high up his back and painful; the grip tightened once Dean stopped moving his arms. He spread his legs a little more and let them hang loosely, flexing his toes a little. "Good?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Dean tried to stay relaxed and calm but truly, he was nervous. It had been a while since any kind of spanking and much, much longer since anyone had taken him over their knees and given it to him good.

The last time someone had done this, it had been a punishment, and it had been short but had. But this wasn't that. No. This was because he wanted it and he needed it, not because he'd been bad. Sure, earlier, Castiel had been teasing him, but he knew he didn't truly mean to say that Dean was naughty, and he knew he wasn't truly disappointed in him for swearing or having an erection.

Castiel's free hand rubbed over his ass and thighs and lower back, soothing and warming his skin. Dean inhaled and exhaled slowly, closing his eyes and trying to get into the proper headspace. Relax and breathe, relax and breathe. In and out. Slowly and calmly. He swallowed dryly, his throat tight and his stomach turning a little.

The first time Castiel spanked him, the hit made him jump hard and move quite a bit and gasp. "Dean," Castiel said quietly, sounding disappointed. "What did I tell you?"

"Not to move, sir. I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to- I won't do it again, sir. I'm sorry," he said quickly, forcing his body to relax again. Castiel sighed a little and adjusted him, then slapped him again. He didn't move this time, and neither did Castiel. A test, it was. After a moment, Castiel pulled his hand away and slapped him again. And again. And again.

He spanked him hard and slow, with patience and a pattern that Dean easily relaxed into. This wasn't bad. There was just enough pleasurable sting to each hit that it made his cock leak precum against Castiel's pants but not enough to distract him from the pain. Eventually, though, the steady hits began to feel stronger and stronger; but they weren't getting harder, he was just getting more sensitive.

Dean squirmed, clenching his ass and immediately regretting it when Castiel slapped him at that exact moment. It hurt double. God, his ass hurt so bad; especially his thighs and sit spots, he was definitely going to have trouble sitting still for the next few days, if not the next week.

"God, please, sir," Dean whimpered, rocking his hips. Castiel clucked his tongue and tugged sharply on the tie with his left hand, his other hand not stopping the patterned hits against his ass and thighs. Dean mewled but forced himself to remain still, trying to be good. He was good. He wasn't a brat.

Castiel stopped after a few more slaps and his fingers danced across his ass, almost tickling him. He shuddered and slumped completely, relishing in the gentle and careful touch. His ass was no doubt bright red, probably glowing. "That was a nice warm-up, huh?" Castiel laughed wickedly. Warm-up? Warm-up?!?

Dean moaned, squirming around immediately. Castiel made a disappointed noise and tugged at the tie, slapping his thigh at the same time. "Enough of that now. I'm going to paddle you and you're going to be very, very still. Like a good little boy. Are we clear?"

"Yes- ah, yes, sir," Dean shifted and then relaxed. He had wanted this. He had asked for this. But now, dammit, he didn't know if he really did anymore. His ass hurt so bad already, and he didn't think he could handle another round of unwavering spanks for the same long ass amount of time.

"Thirty hits, Dean. I want you to count each one. I'm not going to force you to, and I'm not going to punish you if you miss one. However, if you say every number, I'll give you a little reward after," Castiel paused. "Actually, even if you don't count each one, I'll give you a reward; but that all depends on how you behave as well. Okay?"

"Okay, sir," Dean bit his lip then swallowed. He could do it. He could do it all. He would. Even if the end result would probably be the same, he had to. He wanted to. He heard the paddle being picked up then felt it gently rub over his sore body, clenching and unclenching his hands. He tried to prepare himself for the hit but he didn't know how exactly.

An almost sickening crack filled the air before the absolute worst pain erupted in the middle of both of Dean's throbbing cheeks. His eyes burned and he cried out and bent his knees, toes curling and back arching, his wrists tugging at the makeshift cuffs they were in. "Can't- can't, I can't-" Dean gasped, trembling over Castiel's lap. And yet, his cock swelled achingly, demanding attention.

"Shh, hey, shh. It's okay." The paddle disappeared and a soothing hand rubbed his back, calming him. "Do you need to safeword, Dean?"

"No, no, no," Dean breathed heavily through his nose, shaking his head. "No, sir. I'm, I'm fine. Please continue, sir." Dean slumped his body, forcing himself to relax.

"Are you sure?" Castiel asked, hesitating.

"Yes, sir." Dean muttered, and then remembered. "One, sir."

The paddle returned, smoothing over his hot ass and thighs gently. The paddle disappeared for a couple seconds, only to return in the form of a sharp smack.

"Ngh! T-two, sir."

Smack!

"Oh! Th-three, sir."

Smack!

"Fff! Four, sir!"

Smack!

"Ah! Five, sir!"

Smack!

A tear slid from his eye. "Six, sir," he whimpered.

Smack!

"S-s-sev-seven, sir-r," he shifted and another tear fell from his eyes.

Smack!

"E-eight, s-sir," he whispered and started shaking.

Smack!

"Aoh!" He panted and shifted further. "Ni-," he cleared his throat, sniffing. "Nine, sir."

Smack!

"Ten, sir," he sobbed, sucking in hard and hoarse breaths.

He was aware of the clatter of the paddle when it was set down on the table and frowned when he felt his body being lifted easily. Dean was adjusted over Castiel's lap so his calves were resting on the man's thighs. He felt the belt being gently undone and the tie being removed from between his cheeks. Castiel lowered his arms and made him rest them on his shoulders, then began to undo the tie from the base of his cock and balls.

"Sir?"

"Shh," Castiel muttered, tossing the tie to the side when he got it undone. He gently pushed him back and Dean slipped his legs down, standing on shaky feet. Castiel held him as he stood and guided him over to the bed. "I'm sorry, Dean. My arm was getting tired."

Bullshit.

Dean blinked with blurry and tired eyes, clutching his shirt. "Okay." He shivered and lowered his head, staring at his feet. Castiel pulled away a little and started pulling at the comforter and sheets on the bed, shoving the pillows back when they moved with it. He stepped away completely, making Dean let go of him.

Oh. He was leaving. That was okay. It was. Dean didn't need him. He could cope on his own. Castiel walked away and he couldn't help but wrap his arms around himself, closing his eyes tightly and swallowing. He should just climb into the bed and sleep it off. He moved towards the pulled down bed, ready to crawl into it.

"What are you doing?" He froze. Oh. Right. He didn't pull it down for Dean, he did it for himself. Dean should leave. "Dean, look at me." No. "Please." Damn. He glanced up at him through his lashes, chewing on his inner cheek. Castiel's expression was incredibly soft and open and kind, a burning warmth hidden in his blue eyes that made Dean feel tingly all over. "Can you stand for a few more seconds?"

'Course he could. He nodded. Castiel smiled and stepped around him, dropping to a knee behind him and fiddling with a bottle. "Put your hands on the bed, please, Dean." He did, bending himself over. "Thank you." He heard a slick sound and wondered if it was lube, briefly. "This is going to sting momentarily, so brace yourself." He inhaled and held his breath, tensing his body.

Something cold touched his ass and he jumped, seconds later, it started burning. "Shit," he whimpered. Castiel made a soothing noise and gingerly rubbed the coldness over his cheeks and thighs, spreading the burn. "Cas," he sniffed, feeling a new burn in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Dean." The burning disappeared rather quickly, replacing itself with a numbness that took away the pain and aching feeling he got from his backside, but the feeling of his heart beat in his ass didn't go away, the thrum of blood still there.

Castiel stood and walked away, the sink faucet turning on as he no doubt washed his hands. The distinct sound of the fridge opening came next along with a crinkle of a bottle and some wrapper and another wrapper. Castiel padded back over to him and set two bottles of waters and a straw and a juice box and a bar of... chocolate? on the nightstand. He kicked his shoes off and slid onto the bed, adjusting the pillows and looking at Dean expectantly at the same time.

"What?" He muttered, shifting on his feet and straightening himself when he realized he still hadn't. Awkward.

"Do you not wish to lie down?"

Oh. _Oh._ He'd been waiting for him to lie down? Well, okay. Dean crawled onto the bed and moved towards the other side, only to be stopped by that - kind of annoying - cluck that Castiel keeps making. "Come here?" It was a question, not an order, and so he hesitated.

He could just lie down on the other side of the bed, but it was colder there considering there was no unnaturally warm Castiel and the covers weren't turned down. And he was starting to get really cold. Dean slowly crawled into Castiel's arms and the man held him gently, pulling the covers over them both but making sure they didn't brush Dean's backside. Dean leaned against him heavily, rubbing the side of his face against Castiel's shirt.

He heard a crinkle and blinked; watching as Castiel easily unwrapped the chocolate bar and broke off a strip of four pieces. He set the bar on the table and broke off one little piece, holding it close to Dean. "Would you like some chocolate, Dean?" It would be good for him to have it, but he didn't feel like chewing. Not really. He shrugged and nodded at the same time. 

Castiel chuckled and it moved him enough that he scrunched his face up and frowned, pressing his head into the man's chest hard as if that would get back at him for it. God, he was being so stupid. Castiel pressed the piece of chocolate to his lips and Dean bit into it, taking it into his mouth and chewing the milky and soft piece. He fed him the little row until it was gone and then held out a bottle of water and the straw.

Dean reached for it with a weak hand, only to have it gently pushed away. "I got it," Castiel muttered, twisting the cap off and sticking the straw inside as he tossed the cap onto the table. He held the straw to Dean's lips, urging him to open his mouth and suck the liquid in. He did, sighing as it soothed his throat and filled his mouth with moistness and calmed a burn in his chest he didn't realize was even there.

Dean drank at least a quarter of the bottle before pulling back and licking his lips. Castiel set it on the table and finally relaxed completely. Dean snuggled in closer, sighing when he felt one of Castiel's hands appear in his air and stroke his head gently. He turned his head a little, forcing his body to slide up a touch and brushing his nose into Castiel's neck, breathing in the calming scent he seemed to exude.

"Did you want to orgasm, Dean?" Castiel asked quietly, his other hand almost hesitantly starting to rub his back and side. Dean blinked his eyes open; unsure as to when he even closed them, and stared at the stubble coating Castiel's slim neck. He hadn't come? But he felt like he did. He felt loose and he felt calm and at ease and sated; but at the same time he felt edgy and weird.

Dean realized his cock was half-hard and slowly waning, pressed into Castiel's smooth pants... or was it his shirt? He didn't care, really. "No," he sounded rough and tired and stuffy but didn't bother clearing his throat, too lazy for that.

"Okay. Would you like some juice?" He nodded. Castiel's hands disappeared, and he whined in protest, but they came back soon enough, well the one that had been in his hair did. The other hand held the juice box to his lips, pressing the straw through the space between. He opened his mouth a little more and captured the straw, sucking down the juice slowly, content. It was apple. Good old apple juice.

"Cas," he slurred a little, pulling away when he finished the juice. Castiel set the empty container on the table and slipped his hand under the covers again, rubbing Dean's side and back once more. "Can I call you Cas?"

"Of course."

"Okay," Dean licked his lips, blinking sleepily and once more nuzzling his nose against Cas's throat. "You can call me Dean." That was stupid. Cas already called him that.

But Cas didn't laugh at him. "Of course, Dean," he said softly, and Dean could hear the smile in his voice.

"I'm s'rry I lied," he muttered, disliking the way Cas's hands stopped at his comment. "Noo," he grumbled, and Castiel huffed with amusement, starting to rub him again.

"It's okay, Dean. I-"

"You- you never told me how you were."

"I'm tired, Dean. Very tired."

"Work?"

"Yes," he said after a moment. "It's... my position comes with a lot of responsibility and work."

"Me too. My boss, Mr. Adler, is a douche." Cas bristled beneath him, hands stopping their movements - again.

"Mr. Adler?"

"Zacha- Zachar... Zach Adler."

"Zachariah?"

"Ye," Dean licked his lips, accidentally licking Cas at the same time. "Oops," he giggled and wrinkled his nose.

"What did he do?"

"Makes me work over- overtime," he blinked, struggling to keep his eyes open. "And doesn't pay me. Makes comments at me... uh..." he yawned. "Says bad stuff about me and my w- my work..." 

"I see," Cas said, sounding oddly cold. He hands massaged Dean slowly, almost thoughtfully. "Sleep if you're tired. I'll be here when you wake up."

"Okay," he let his eyes slid shut, yawning again.

"Oh, and Dean?"

"Mm?"

"What's your full name?"

"Dean Winch- Winchester," he yawned in the middle of his name, louder and longer. "Night."

"Goodni-"

He wasn't awake long enough to hear the end of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: Spanking: paddling, hand. Arm bondage; wrists: belt. Interesting use of a tie - makeshift cock and ball leash. Very minor CBT (not even really). Orgasm denial. Public humiliation. Mentions of safewording. Aftercare.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this at different times so there are probably quite a few errors in there. I tried to read it over but I'm not sure I fixed all of the character mistakes. Anyways, enjoy~ <3

**Dean**

Dean sat at the bar with his head in his hands, absolutely miserable. Adler had had a meeting with their mysterious CEO, and ever since, he'd been an even bigger piece of shit than normal. He was a douche to everyone, but to Dean? He was the God of all assholes. Top it all off, it had been a month since he'd last been here at Lucifer's club. And it had been the same amount of time since he'd gotten off.

And he was as desperate as he was needy.

"Come on, cher," Benny said, leaning on the counter in front of him. "Haven't seen you in a month and you saunter back in here with a defeated and miserable look on your face. You talk, I'll pour." Benny grabbed a glass and poured two fingers worth of whisky.

Dean dropped his hands and grabbed the glass, throwing it back and making a face when it burned his throat. This wasn't his usual whisky, but it wasn't bad at all; in fact, it was better. Benny refilled his glass and raised an expectant brow.

"My boss is a piece of shit." Benny remained silent, face neutral. "I dunno. I've been really busy and tired and, fuck, man," Dean swallowed down the glass of whisky again, licking his lips. "I'm tired of this shit with him. I just want him to fuck off and leave me alone."

"Can't you complain about it to someone?" Benny asked, pouring Dean half of what he did before.

"I'm not a tattletale, Benny," Dean frowned. "Besides, the big boss is AWOL majority of the time. You know I've never even seen him before? Never heard his fucking name either. No one has any idea what he looks like, and if they do, they're so fucking tight lipped about it that it's not even worth asking about."

"Oi! Bartender!"

"Look," Dean said before Benny could leave. "Do you know anyone free tonight?"

"Cas is free. So is Lilith and Alastair." Dean grimaced at the last two names. "Speaking of Cas, he's coming over here." Benny headed off down the bar to deal with the annoying patron who kept shouting at him. Dean swallowed and straightened his body, turning halfway as Castiel slid into the chair beside him-

Holy fuck, what was he wearing?

Thick leather boots, snug leather pants that looked like jeans, a leather belt and a leather chest harness with four belts that had double holes; all in black. The harness revealed a hairless but muscled abdomen and strong arms that made Dean nearly drool. The motherfucker looked like a leather daddy, and Dean's dick twitched within the tight confines of his jeans at the sight of the Dom.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel greeted, practically lounging on his chair. Dean gulped and dragged his gaze up the man's body to his eyes, flushing lightly at the amused sparkle within them.

"H-" he cleared his throat. "Hi."

"How have you been?"

"G-great," Dean licked his lips, shifting and trying to will his erection away. "You?"

Castiel chuckled. "I'm well. How has work been?"

"Uh," Dean blinked. The thought of Zachariah immediately made his erection flag and he sighed. "Sucky."

"That Adler guy still giving you trouble?" Castiel's jaw clenched, eyes narrowing.

"Yeah. Even more so now. The last month has been hell."

"Is that what kept you from coming here?"

"Well," Dean hesitated. "Yeah. That and I've been really tired. I just... I needed to come out tonight. Don't think I could've handled another week," he said truthfully, looking down at his hands.

"Would you like to be my sub for the night, Dean?" Castiel asked after a moment of silence, his intense gaze regarding him.

"Uh... Yeah," Dean licked his lips nervously. "Yes, sir."

"Good boy," Castiel smiled, leaning forward and beckoning Dean closer. Dean stood and stepped closer, letting himself be pulled between Castiel's legs. He carefully touched the man's leather pants and shuddered at the smoothness. He smelled like the leather and it was driving Dean mad.

"Any requests for tonight?" Castiel placed his hands on Dean's hips, fingers sliding under his jacket and shirt and making little circles over his waist.

"Beat me into a mess," Dean said, his voice edging on pleading. "Please. I need you to beat me as hard as you can." Castiel pressed his lips into a thin line, eyeing him cautiously. He slowly slid his arms around Dean's waist and pulled him closer, head ducking down so his lips were close to Dean's ear.

"You want me to make you red all over? I'll even pay extra attention to your perky little ass and beat it cherry." Castiel murmured into his ear, hot breath sending shivers down his spine.

"Yes, please," Dean gasped, cock twitching in his pants. Castiel hummed and pulled back, pressing gentle kisses to Dean's jaw and cheek and mouth, his tongue darting out to lick occasionally. "Cas-"

"Shh," Castiel pulled back and looked him over slowly. "Take your clothing off." Dean stepped back and removed his coat, placing it on the table and following it with his open button up and his shirt, folding them loosely and setting them on top of his jacket. He removed his shoes and socks, pushing them to the side a little before taking off his jeans and folding them, placing them on top of the shirts. Dean hesitated on his boxers, eyeing Castiel's face before sighing and pushing them off, folding them. "Such a good boy."

Castiel tugged him closer once more, nuzzling his neck with a pleased sounding hum. Dean let himself relax, closing his eyes for a brief moment. Castiel kissed his shoulder and neck, sending little tingles shooting through hims body. "Before I make you a delicious red," he muttered, licking the shell of Dean's ear. "I'm going to tease your cock until it's swollen and aching and you're a needy little mess.  _My_ needy little mess."

Dean moaned at the possessive tone, shuddering lightly. His cock jumped in response, eager to be played with and enticed by the heavy growl of Castiel's voice. "Please," he whined. There was a brief second that he realized he just whined and Castiel clearly heard it but it was pushed aside with a gust of wind when the Dom groaned in his ear and bit the fleshy lobe hard, sending jolts of pleasure and pain through him.

He was pulled into Castiel's lap, straddling the man. One of Castiel's hands grasped his cock loosely, stroking slowly and tauntingly. Dean's breathing picked up and he eagerly rocked his hips into the hand. It had been a while since he'd jerked off, longer since someone had touched him intimately. He was needy. Desperate. Deprived. He wanted more; he needed more.

Dean pawed lightly at Castiel's bare body, making a pleased noise when he felt his skin. He wasn't stopped when his nails dug into Castiel's skin, if anything, he was encouraged by a quiet moan. The chair turned so Dean was facing the bar with his back to majority of the crowd. Castiel tightened his grip on his waist and leaned his body backwards. "Lean back slowly."

He hesitated for a moment then did so, crossing his ankles behind the chair and bending his back. Castiel's legs spread a little to give him room and he held him tightly so he didn't fall. The grip on his cock tightened and the pace of the stroking picked up, a sharp twist to the head of his cock joining the rhythmic movements of his hand each time said limb came to the top. Dean felt lightheaded within several moments.

"Cas," he gasped, bucking his hips up. "Close." A few more torturous seconds passed, bringing him closer and closer to the end, then the hand disappeared. Dean mewled in despair, desperately bucking his hips up and trying to find friction of any kind. He slumped after a moment, blinking and breathing heavily, his head filled with all the blood that wasn't in his pulsing dick.

A feather-light touch to the throbbing vein on the underside of his length had him bucking his hips again and a plaintive cry escaped his parted lips. The light touch turned into a harder one, Castiel grasping his cock in his hand once more and beginning to stroke him again. His thumbnail dug into his slit, making him groan and tense his thighs for a second.

Dean blinked as two boot covered legs appeared in front of him and looked up the persons body. Laced thigh-high boots, a leather skirt and definitely no underwear, and a barely there leather bra that barely held the red-headed Domme's - obviously a Domme - breasts.

"Hello," the female said, a smirk lighting up her face. "My name is Abaddon."

"Castiel," his Dom replied, fingernail scraping down the underside of his cock. Dean gasped and jerked his hips up, hands clenching. "This is Dean."

"He's cute." Dean squirmed.

"Yes, he is," Castiel laughed, flicking the head of his dick.

"I'm new here," Abaddon moved to sit beside Castiel, in the chair Dean had previously occupied. "Would you help me?"

"Sure," Castiel pressed his thumb against the underside of his cock, just below the head. Dean whined, clenching his ass and bucking up. "What do you need?"

"Cas- please," Dean rocked his hips up into Castiel's hand, moaning as he edged closer and closer to his orgasm. Castiel didn't reply to him, instead listening as Abaddon talked about... about... something, talked about something. "Please!" So close. So close. Just... "No! Cas, Cas, please!" He trembled, tears glazing his eyes. He didn't like this. Hated it.

A soft sob escaped him when Castiel slapped his cock. "Shut up, boy," the man sighed. "I'm trying to have a conversation here."

"Sor- sorry," Dean bit his lip, his head beginning to hurt. He debated on staying down there longer but then decided against it as his head throbbed further. He dropped his hand to Castiel's calf and tapped it, trying to sit up but feeling very weak. "Up?"

Castiel leaned forward and slid his other arm around his back, lifting him up so he was sitting in his lap. Dean dropped his legs apart and blinked dazedly for a moment, a little confused at the sudden change in height. A hand cupped his cheek, making him shake his head and turn his eyes to stare at a partly concerned Castiel. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Dean swallowed and licked his dry lips. Castiel hummed and turned back to Abaddon, saying something quietly while at the same time dropping his hand to Dean's cock and beginning to stroke it again. Dean dropped his head to the man's shoulder, nuzzling his neck and moving his hips in time with the loose caress on his dick. "Can I please come?"

"No, Dean," Castiel said, disapproving. "Now shut up. This is your last warning." Dean whimpered, biting Castiel's neck lightly in an attempt at retaliation. Castiel just huffed quietly, not even bothering to reply to it.

All too soon, he was approaching the edge again and he debated on not telling Castiel, wondering what would happen if he came without his permission. How would he punish him? He kind of didn't want to find out. Yet he did. He didn't say anything, just bit his lip hard and tightened his grip on the man and moved his hips faster.

Castiel seemed to know what he was doing though, and he dropped his hand to the side, leaving him shaking with need. But the difference between sitting in his lap and leaning back between his legs was that now that Dean was up here, he had somewhere to rut against. So he pressed his hips closer and rocked against Castiel's lower abdomen and belt.

That earned him a sharp smack to his left cheek and his hips were grabbed tightly enough to bruise, forced to stop their movement. "Cas," he sobbed, struggling to move his hips. He was roughly pushed from Castiel's lap and he stumbled, eyes widening at the steely gaze that met his shocked one. He gulped as Castiel deftly removed his belt, folding it in half and holding it up to his face.

"Open," but Dean didn't want to. So he didn't. Definitely a bad idea. Castiel raised a brow, almost eerily calm, and dropped the hand, lifting his free one and slapping Dean hard across the face. His eyes stung immediately but it didn't hurt, not really; it made his cock twitch though. "Open your mouth, Dean." He obeyed, biting into the middle of the belt as it was pushed inside, the sides biting into the corners of his lips.

Castiel turned him around and made him grab his left wrist with his right hand, then pushed him forward and kicked his legs apart. There was a moment of silence before he spoke, but it wasn't directed at Dean, no, it was towards Abaddon - continuing their conversation as if he hadn't just pushed Dean away.

Well fuck.

Now what did he do? Wait or disobey again, if only to feel himself get smacked again. That sounded good but... no.

Dean dropped his chin to his chest, staring down at his dripping and purple-red cock. His balls throbbed, full and heavy. He twitched his cock, watching the bead of precum slip off the head and down his dick. He shuddered, feeling the bead of liquid slid down slowly. He shouldn't be so aroused at being pushed away, definitely not. Nope. 'Course he was though.

People walked past him, so close but never touching. They shot lewd smirks and filthy gazes at him, all intrigued by his aroused state but none talked to him, none addressed the conversing Abaddon and Castiel, none even looked curious. It was like they all knew he had been bad.

Dean didn't know how long he stood there, but it was long enough his body ached from not moving. Dean shifted, wiggling his toes and shaking his legs. He rolled his shoulders as well.

"Dean."

He froze. "Y-yes, sir?" Shit, he was gonna get in more trouble now.

"Turn around." He did, returning to his previous position once he was facing Castiel. The man eyed him quietly, Abaddon sporting a strange little grin that looked cruel. Castiel stood and stepped closer to him, his thumb and index finger grabbing his chin and tilting his head back and to the sides. Dean frowned, brows furrowing in confusion. "I'll be back."

Castiel let go of him and walked around him and away. Dean blinked and almost turned to follow him, but managed to stop himself quickly. Abaddon laughed and he turned to her, curious, but regretted it when he saw her dark gaze.

"I'd love to by your Domme," she said, tapping her long fingernails on the table. Her gaze dropped down his body, lingering over his crotch, then returned to his face. "It's a shame you're not a girl." She narrowed her eyes then, a wicked expression appearing. "Of course... I could always make you into one."

Dean shuddered lightly, biting harder into the belt and thanking God when Castiel appeared and sat down in his chair. He glanced between them curiously but didn't say anything. He held a dark brown leather collar and matching leash in hand as well as black [cock ring](https://www.extremerestraints.com/cock-rings_34/incite-10-mode-remote-control-cock-ring_10088.html) with a vibrator attached. Fuck.

"Come here," Dean stepped closer and watched as Castiel slid his hand through the collar and let the leash hang over his arm. Then he slipped the cock ring around the base of his balls and cock, trapping them tightly together. He grabbed Dean's cock and stroked it lightly, taking it from its half-hard state to a fully hard one. Castiel tilted his head back, attaching the collar and making sure there was enough room between his skin and the leather, then he hooked the leach onto it and tugged lightly. "Good?"

"Yes, sir," he said weakly around the belt, heart beating harshly in his chest. Collars always made him lightheaded, mostly because they meant he was owned. He liked being owned. The Dom removed the belt from his mouth and set it on the bar top. Castiel patted his lap and he practically crawled into it, wrapping his arms around the man and nuzzling his neck and sighing; he liked touching, it was comforting. He moaned softly as the vibrator turned on, cock jerking in response and rubbing against Castiel's bare skin.

Dean felt the vibrations turn up a notch and he swallowed, feeling the collar press lightly against his throat. He shuddered, pressing a kiss to Castiel's shoulder. He heard a feminine laugh and immediately recognized it as Abaddon. When was she leaving? He kissed his way up to Castiel's ear, licking the shell.

"I don't like her," he muttered, shifting closer so he could rock his hips and stimulate his cock against Castiel's abdomen. The Dom tugged on his leash lightly, telling Dean he acknowledged what he'd said. Dean hoped he got rid of her soon. He didn't do anything though, continuing whatever conversation he was having with her.

Dean shifted again, so his crotch was right against Castiel's leather pants, and ground his hips down. A shocked moan escaped him because motherfuck, he was not expecting that to be so damn nice. Dean repeated the motion over and over, whining unashamedly in Castiel's ear. The man hissed and grabbed his hips, attempting to keep him in place.

"Dean," he growled and fuck, if the sound didn't go straight to Dean's cock.

"Yes, sir?" Dean closed his eyes, biting his lip and moving his hips faster, chasing an orgasm that wasn't going to happen unless the stupid ring came off.

Castiel's lips pressed against his ear. "I'm asexual, Dean, not impotent. Stop trying to make me hard." Castiel pushed him back, making him stumble to his feet. Dean's cock bounced and he shuddered, flushing brightly. He glanced down at Castiel's pants and felt a little victorious at the sight of the straining leather. "Go to the stage, Dean. Kneel and wait for me."

Dean moaned to himself as the cock ring turned off and eagerly obeyed, ignoring all the interested looks he got as he slid past people and got onto the stage. He looked around for a pillow but didn't find one, so he knelt on the wooden floor and tried not to grimace.

He didn't have to wait long, Castiel appearing no more than five minutes later. The Dom crouched in front of him, grasping onto the leash, a dark look in his eyes as he cupped Dean's jaw. "Do you want my cock, Dean?" He drawled, tugging lightly on the leash.

"Yes, please, sir," Dean said, eyes widening. Was Dean going to get fucked? But he thought Castiel didn't like sex. This didn't make sense.

Castiel nodded, tilting his head and turning to look at the slowly gathering crowd. He turned back to Dean and his hand slipped off his cheek but he didn't move to stand. "I see," Castiel said, pursing his lips and nodding. Dean frowned, brows furrowing.

And he really wished he had glanced down at the man's hands, because maybe then he would have seen the slap coming. He groaned, head snapping to the side as Castiel's palm connected with the left side of his face. 

"You don't get my cock, Dean," Castiel said, voice rough and perfect, sending jolts of pleasure through Dean. "You don't deserve it." Castiel stood and unhooked the leash, stepping back and tucking his hands behind his back. "Get up."

Dean scrambled to his feet, spreading his legs and grabbing his left wrist with his right hand and lowering his head. Castiel walked around him calmly, shifting items on the table against the wall. He returned a moment later, attaching cuffs to Dean's wrists and ankles. He attached chains to the ankle cuffs and hooked the chains to bolts on the ground.

Then he linked the cuffs together and hooked them onto a dangling chain. A moment passed and the chain was slowly lifted, bringing Dean up and off the ground. It pulled up until Dean's body was stretched taut and he was on full display. Legs spread, arms up, he was the perfect victim to whatever abuse Castiel's filthy mind was no doubt thinking about.

Castiel walked around him and returned with a flogger, simple and plain and clearly just something to warm them both up. He presented it to Dean, flicking it in front of his body. Dean nodded, watching as he stepped back and twirled it in his hand. He looked at Dean from beneath his lashes and a slow smile appeared, a sadistic smile.

Dean's breath was punched out of him in the form of a sharp gasp, the flogger making contact with his chest. He moaned, tugging his arms down and only getting an inch of slack - barely an inch. Castiel whipped him again, this time over his cock and hips; it stole another gasp from his lips.

It wasn't hard and it didn't really hurt, there was a sting to it but nothing too much. He needed more, so much more. He wanted to tingle and throb, he needed to feel sharp pain. Castiel walked around him slowly, dragging the flogger over his thighs and ass and back.

Then the hits came in a steady pattern, Castiel circling his hanging figure as the hits thudded over his body, turning the skin a soft pink. Dean jerked a little, unprepared for the places he hit and the amount of strength he put into them, but he enjoyed it. So, so much. He squirmed around, trying not to but unable to stop. He remembered the Dom's threat from their first scene together, and it still made his cock twitch.

The vibrating cock ring turned on just as a particularly sharp hit landed over his cock, and the mix of minor pain and incredible pleasure was almost too much. Dean cried out, arching his back and curling his toes. He would have came if not for the stupid ring, but a part of him was grateful he didn't. He didn't want to come, not yet. 

Castiel stepped back and lowered his arm, tilting his head and watching him for a moment. He walked to the table, disappearing from Dean's view. Dean dropped his head, breathing deeply and trying to calm his racing heart and ignore the delicious vibrations from the cock ring.

Castiel's hand brushed his hip, making him lift his head and stare at the man. He held a diamond-braided flogger, and for a second Dean thought it was the same one as last time, but then he remembered that one was black and red and not black and blue, and it definitely did not have a knotted end. Castiel flicked it in the air, sliding his hand up Dean's body and tugging lightly at the collar, raising a brow at Dean. He nodded eagerly, watching with parted lips as the Dom stepped back and put his hands behind his back, watching him.

Dean whimpered, tugging at the cuffs and frowning at Castiel. The man's eyes had a glint in them, one he couldn't place, and he also had a cruel smirk plastered on his face. Castiel eyed him for a second longer then pulled his hands from behind his back and reached for his leather pants. Castiel undid the button on his leather pants, following it by slowly lowering the zipper. Dean swallowed nervously, cock twitching, and watched as he slid his hand into his pants and grasped himself.

Dean's breath caught in his throat as the Dom pulled his cock out, _erect_ and thick and long and fucking perfect, absolutely perfect. Castiel chuckled, wicked and low, and stroked himself with an amused look plastered onto his face. Dean whined, jerking in his restraints and trying to reach for the man. That wasn't fair! 

Castiel lifted his other arm and moved it towards Dean quickly, the flogger making contact with his skin and ripping a sharp cry from his lips. His feet pointed towards the ground and his toes curled, he arched his back and grasped the chain holding the wrist cuffs. The second hit came before he could even recover from the first, and the third followed just as quickly. Castiel circled him, stroking his cock slowly and laying stinging hits onto his unprotected flesh.

"Please, please," Dean rasped, cock dripping like a fountain. He felt lightheaded and dazed and he could feel himself slipping. His eyes glazed with tears when Castiel stopped behind him and just about tore at his ass with the wretched flogger. "Please!" The Dom ignored him, beating his thighs and his ass until he felt numb.

Castiel stopped and there was a little shifting behind him before the man appeared in front of him. His cock and balls ached and he was sobbing and so completely not even present.

***

He felt arms around him and blinked, wondering when he'd been lowered and uncuffed. Castiel nipped his jaw and leaned back, holding his face in his hand and forcing him to make eye contact.

"Repeat after me," he said softly. "My name is Dean Winchester."

"My- my name is Dean Winc-hester," Dean partly slurred, frowning in confusion.

"I live in Pontiac, Illinois."

"I live in Pontiac, Illinoi-..."

"And I'm a fairy princess."

"And I'm a fair- wait... what?" Dean leaned back, glaring at Castiel's amused grin. "Not cool," he muttered, trying to lean in close. Castiel chuckled and pushed him back. Dean realized he was on his knees and Castiel was too. The Dom stood up and his cock - half-hard - was still out of his pants. Dean reached for him, only to have his hands slapped away. "Please?"

"No," Castiel blinked easily. He wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked himself slowly until he was fully hard, then he jerked his cock quickly. His free hand reached out and grabbed Dean's hair, pulling and forcing his head back. Dean moaned and shifted, opening his mouth. "No, close it." He pouted and glared at him, hating the twinkle in Castiel's blue eyes. "Might wanna... close those."

Dean clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, just in time for Castiel to grunt and hot semen to splatter over his face. He was seriously glad he'd obeyed now, because it would have gotten in his eye instead of on his eye lid if he hadn't. He licked his lips and moaned when he tasted the man's come. Dean blinked his eyes open when Castiel let go of his hair and watched as the man tucked himself back inside his pants, buttoning and zipping it up.

He stepped around him, helping Dean to his feet and holding him against his chest. The cock ring was off, Dean realized, and not just the vibrations, the whole thing was gone. "When did-"

"You blacked out for a few minutes," Castiel muttered in his ear, his hand sliding down Dean's chest to cup his cock. Dean moaned and his hips jerked instinctively. Castiel let go of him and disappeared, returning a second later. There was a soft click and a squirt then Dean felt something slick touching his hole.

Oh fuck.

Castiel held him, arm over his chest and hand wrapped around his throat. Collar-free, he noted. Castiel's lips brushed his ear, teasing. "I was going to end the scene completely, but then figured out how annoyed you'd be when you realized you hadn't come." Dean moaned again, shifting his hips as Castiel's finger breached him. "Look at the crowd, Dean, watch them watching you."

He did, and a part of him immediately wished he hadn't. Dean had no problem with them watching him, he kind of enjoyed it, really. But staring at  _them_  was a whole different matter. He gulped, fighting the urge to turn his head away or close his eyes. "I don't-"

"Shh," Castiel licked the shell of his ear, pumping his finger in and out of Dean, never once brushing over his prostate. "Look at how entranced they are. All so eager to watch you." Dean whined and reached back, clutching Castiel as a second finger pushed in with a slight burn. "Look at how they touch themselves, how their subs suck their cocks and lick their pussies. That's all for you, all _because_  of you."

The Dom's words weren't exactly filthy or arousing but it still made Dean tremble and his cock twitch against his stomach. "You got them all so horny, boy," Castiel continued easily, fingers brushing over Dean's prostate - finally. "And now you're going to come for them,  _for me_. You're going to come from just my fingers up your ass, and you're going to do it within the next two minutes."

"I can't!" Dean gasped, panicking. He'd never come untouched before, he didn't know how. "Please, I've nev- I don't-"

"Hush," Castiel bit his ear and pressed his fingers against Dean's prostate without mercy. Dean cried out, tensing his body and clenching around his fingers. "You will," he growled, rubbing unmercifully against the bundle of nerves. "Come on, boy, time's running out."

Dean sobbed, tears glazing his eyes. It felt so good but it was intense and it was too much. He couldn't come. "Please? Can I just-"

"I said no, slut," Castiel hissed in his ear, his hand tightening around Dean's neck. Oh fuck, oh fuck. "A minute left." Dean cried out, rocking his hips desperately. Come on, come on, he could do it; he could... n't.

"Sir, please," he mewled, shifting. It was too much, too intense, he couldn't do this. Not like this. Tears glazed his eyes, threatening to spill over and down his cheeks. He needed time and he needed a hand on his cock and- and-

"Come on, boy. Come for me," Castiel ordered, his fucking nails scraping delicately over Dean's prostate.

Dean cried out and did just that, cock jerking as thick and long spurts of come came from the tip of his dick. He moaned, jerking his hips forward and back, rocking onto those fingers as he rode out his orgasm. A tear slid down his cheek as he sobbed with relief, knees buckling. Castiel's fingers slipped out of him and he grabbed him around the waist, carefully lowering him to the ground.

"Cas," he whined, shaking in his arms. Dean felt weak and loose and his mind blanked. The next thing he knew was that he was being picked up and held against a chest. And after that he felt a bed underneath him, silk sheets brushing over his tender front.

Something cool brushed over his face, cleaning. It did the same over his ass, but that stung when his face hadn't, and he shifted away from it with a groan. "Please say fill, Dean," Castiel muttered from behind him... or he thought he did.

"Fill," he slurred, blinking dazedly. Castiel laughed from behind him, a soft breathy sound, and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I said stay still," Castiel ran a hand through his hair, nails gently scraping his scalp. Ah. 'Course he had. "This is going to hurt," Castiel warned just moments before applying a thick layer of something to Dean's ass and thighs. And fuck, if it didn't hurt like a bitch. It was enough to bring Dean almost completely out of his daze and he hissed.

He heard the sink turn on and blinked across the room at Castiel, who was just drying his hands. Dean crawled up the bed as the man grabbed a juice box and bottle of water from the fridge, along with a banana and a bar of chocolate. Castiel slid into the bed, under the covers, and tugged Dean against his chest; he'd taken the harness off and his boots, Dean realized.

Castiel held the straw for the juice box to his lips, urging him to open his mouth. He did, and sucked on the straw. "You were so good today, Dean," Castiel muttered against his hair, lips brushing the crown. "So very good. I'm so proud of you."

"Was not," he said, licking his lips.

"You were. I promise you were." Castiel pulled the juice box away and set it on the nightstand. Dean pouted. The man held out a piece of chocolate though, so Dean wasn't too upset. He licked it because he was way too lazy to bite it and he ignored Castiel's soft laugh in response to it.

Eventually he bit into it because it was kind of annoying to lick at something so delicious. Castiel made him eat three more pieces before he returned his juice to him - the little juice stealing shit, Dean could swear that some was missing. Castiel denied it when Dean voiced his thoughts but Dean knew, oh he knew. The little juice thief. He was gonna kill him... later, of course, much later.

"Cas," Dean swallowed and shifted up a little. "Why'd ya jerk off?"

"Because I felt like it."

"But I thought... you didn't like that."

"I don't. And you watching me masturbate doesn't change that," Castiel ran a hand through Dean's hair. "But I do need to do it every once in a while. It's healthy."

"Ah," Dean frowned, brushing his nose against Castiel's collarbone. "Okay."

Castiel kissed his forehead, sighing softly. "Sleep, Dean. I'll be here when you wake up."

Dean smiled a little shyly, liking the idea of waking up wrapped up in Castiel's arms. He closed his eyes and relaxed further, burrowing in closer. When he woke up, Castiel would probably give him a massage. He'd probably tickle him and kiss him all over, tell him how sweet he was and make a new memory, a gentler one, over the places he'd beaten. He'd probably feed him more chocolate and make him drink a bottle of water.

He looked forward to it, always did.

***

But when he woke up a few hours later, it was to a cold bed and an empty room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: Suspension. Orgasm delay/denial. Cuffs. Chains. Cock ring. Vibrator. Leather kink. Kneeling. Flogging. Edging. Praise kink. Punishment(?). Collar. Leash. Public Scene. Minor [non-verbal] Safeword Use. Exhibitionism. Voyeurism. Asexual masturbation. Pet names. Coming Untouched. Facial. Fingering. Face slapping. Aftercare. Hints at/of SD.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the lack of updates (over a month since I updated this). ): I previously wrote about 12k words for a 2 part (2 chapter) follow up to chapter 4 but I decided (for the billionth time) that I hated it, and I started writing this. I hope you like it and I'll try and write out another chapter soon! <3

Dean remembered leaving the club last night, alone and cold. Castiel hadn't been anywhere, but his words had echoed through Dean's head, reminding him over and over that his Dom had lied to him. Left him.

Dean slowly walked into the club, head lowered. He sat down at the end of the bar, partly hidden in the shadows of the club. He didn't signal Benny, instead he turned and looked over at stage one, where Abaddon had a cute brunette tied to a Saint Andrew's cross and was whipping her methodically under the watchful eye of the brunette's Dom. Dom tag team. How nice.

Something slid onto the bar table behind him, a glass, probably full of whisky. He didn't turn to look at the person who slid onto the stool beside him, didn't want to acknowledge his existence. He hated him; but he didn't. He wanted to walk away; but he couldn't.

"Dean."

"Go away," he muttered, turning his eyes away from stage three and staring down at his lap. His insides turned and twisted, making him feel sick.

A hand reached for him, to touch his arm or leg, he didn't know. He grabbed the wrist and threw the arm right back at the person, standing and walking to where the restrooms were placed. He didn't want to deal with the Dom, he couldn't stand to look at him. He barely managed to skim past people without touching them, heart pounding in his chest and stomach turning further.

He was grabbed a little roughly from behind, spun around and pressed against a wall. His green eyes clashed with deep blue and he swallowed. "Please, Cas," he muttered. "Please leave me alone."

"Dean," Castiel said quietly. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for leaving you last night, I didn't mean to. I can help you."

"Help me with what? Nothing's wrong with me!" Dean snapped, shoving him off and storming away. He was maybe being a little childish but he didn't want to see him and he definitely didn't want to touch him. He needed someone to beat him with a whip, someone that wasn't Castiel and didn't have any morals, someone like... _him._

Dean locked eyes with him from across the floor, chest tightening as he turned in his direction. Castiel grabbed him from behind, pulling him around and in close, trapping him in his arms.  He forced his head into his chest, cradling the back gently but firmly. "Cas-"

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding genuine. "I didn't mean to leave you last night. I got called away for something very important at work and I couldn't just leave it. Please forgive me, Dean." He loosened his grip and pulled back, lips pressed thin.

"Scene with me," Dean said, making Castiel's eyes widen.

"Dean, we shouldn't-"

"Scene with me now or never again," he said firmly, stepping back and clenching his hands.

Castiel looked so lost, looking around himself and then down at his hands and then Dean. "Dean, please. It's not safe-"

"Now or never."

Castiel clenched his jaw tight and shoved his hands into his pant pockets, a dark expression appearing. "Fine," he said tightly. "Go to room seven. And just so you know, this is going my way tonight, whether you like it or not."

Dean smirked and spun on his heels, walking past the other people and towards the backrooms. He opened room seven and stepped inside, looking around and finding it all cleaned up from when he'd left last night. He sat down at the foot of the bed and waited, gaze on the closed door.

Castiel opened the door around ten minutes later, shutting it and locking it. His face was blank, but his eyes were dark. He removed his blazer and walked to the table, dropping it on top. He undid his cufflinks and pocketed them, rolling his sleeves up. Castiel leaned against the table as he loosened his tie and undid the top button.

"If we're going to scene, then we're going to do a... _softer_  scene."

"Softer?" Dean frowned and straightened his back.

"I suggest pet play."

"No," he said it so fast that he didn't even realize it until a moment later. Castiel narrowed his eyes and tilted his head.

"Why?"

"Nothing," he said just as quickly. "I just don't like it."

"Really?"

Dean hesitated. "Yes."

"I don't believe you," Castiel replied, stepping away from the table and slowly walking over to him. He stopped beside him, hands sliding into his pockets. "You wouldn't want to be my puppy?" He shook his head, swallowing. Castiel hummed and leaned down, face right in front of Dean. "How about my little kitty?"

He whimpered, clenching his hands and shaking his head rapidly. "No, no, no," Dean bit his lip briefly. "I can't."

"Why not, kitten?" Castiel sat down beside him, gaze never leaving his face. "What's wrong?"

"It didn't work last time."

"Didn't work?" Dean shrugged, looking down at his hands. "I'm not going to hurt you. Please trust me?" He sighed and turned his head away, staring across the room.

"He was mean," he muttered. "I wasn't in the right headspace and he hurt me."

"You don't-"

"He hurt me and it was so hard to get back to myself when he left. I had nothing to anchor me," Dean pursed his lips, swallowing dryly. "But I trust you, Cas. Even if you did leave me last night."

"I'm sorry."

"I know," Dean stood and slowly removed his shirts, dropping them to the bed. "Only thirty minutes, okay?"

"An hour? Please? I'd like fifteen minutes to ease you into it, thirty minutes to play and another fifteen to bring you back to me," Castiel stood, brushing his pants  down.

Dean hesitated. It was only another thirty minutes, it couldn't be too bad. "Okay." He watched Castiel pulled his phone out, fiddling with it as Dean removed his shoes and socks, following it with his pants and underwear. He collected the clothing and walked over to the table, setting the boots underneath and the clothes on top.

"Okay, Dean. What would you like to do during our scene?" Castiel intertwined his fingers in front of himself, looking at him expectantly.

"Be a cat?"

"As a cat, what would you like to do?"

"I don't know," Dean scratched the back of his neck, pressing his lips together as he thought. "Pet me?"

"Okay. I'll, uh," Castiel looked around the room, eyes narrowing. "I'll improvise, if that's all right with you."

"Sure," Dean breathed deeply to calm himself and spread his legs, hands going behind his back and head bowing. Castiel sat down on the bed again, hands in his lap.

"Come here, Dean," he said. Dean obediently walked over, standing in front of him in the same position. "Kneel." He dropped to his knees. "Good boy," he said softly, reaching out and running a hand through Dean's hair. He sighed and relaxed, eyes falling shut.

Castiel stood and walked behind him, shuffling around and opening drawers. He came back multiple times, dropping things onto the bed then finally after several moments, he sat down in the same spot as earlier. His finger tapped Dean's chin, and he lifted his head, tilting it back as his neck was exposed.

"Open your eyes." Dean did, blinking a little and looking at the items on the bed beside the Dom. 

There was a thin white collar with one silver D ring and buckle, a small pale pink bow attached to the front and a hook for a tag on the knot of the bow. Beside that was a matching set of white wrist and ankle cuffs with double D rings and two foot length pieces of chain.

Castiel held up a silver paw print, a tag, that said 'Kitten' on it. He attached it to the equally colored hook on the collar and then unbuckled it, slipping it around Dean's neck and securing it. He made sure it wasn't too tight or loose, fingers slipping underneath for a brief second. "Give me your wrists."

Dean pulled his arms from behind his back, moving them towards Castiel, the backs of his hands hovering over the Dom's thighs. Castiel buckled the cuffs onto his wrists, hooking the chain onto them, then pushed them down to the ground and stood. Dean dropped his hands between his spread legs and watched as Castiel walked around him holding the ankle cuffs.

He knelt by Dean's feet and secured the cuffs to his ankles, tightening them just enough so they were secure, and attaching the other chain to them. He shifted and crouched close to Dean's back, leaning in close, his breath on Dean's ear. "Would you like the headband or not?" Dean's eyes darted to the last item on the bed, taking in the fluffy white cat ears with pink insides.

It wouldn't match his hair, but did that really matter? He nodded and watched Castiel walk around him and take it, carefully placing it on his head and adjusting it a little. He smiled and brushed the backs of his fingers over Dean's cheek. "You look adorable, kitten," he said softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Dean blushed and looked down at his hands, head dipping low as he tried to hide his face. Castiel huffed in amusement and stepped away to grab something, coming back a couple seconds later with a pink butt plug and a soft white tail attachment and a bottle of lube.

"Turn around, kitty," he said, flicking the bottle open. Dean shuffled on his hands and knees and turned around, lowering his upper body to the ground and presenting his ass. Castiel rubbed his ass, spreading his cheeks every few seconds. "Such an obedient kitty."

Dean bit his lip, wondering if he was allowed to make sounds, and shook his ass. "Meow?" He tried, frowning at how it actually sounded like me and ow.

"Little more enthusiasm next time, kitten," Castiel laughed, lightly slapping his left ass cheek. Dean pouted and did it again, making sure to sound a little more realistic and arching his back. "Better," he commented as he squirted out lube into his hand. He rubbed a cool finger against Dean's hole, keeping his ass spread with his other hand.

Castiel pushed his finger into Dean slowly, easing it in and out until it was slick and easy. He pressed another finger in, carefully working him open, scissoring his fingers in and out. He added a third within a few moments, and this time it burned slightly. Dean wiggled his ass, cock hardening, and clenched around his fingers before relaxing.

The Dom let go of his ass cheeks and slid the hand up his back, rubbing his spine and lower back gently. He twisted them around a little and rubbed against Dean's prostate, making him whine quietly. "Shh," he chuckled, doing it once more before pulling his fingers out. The plug pressed against his ass immediately, pushing in lightly. It was thicker than his fingers were and it hurt a little as it pressed inside, but it wasn't too bad. The widest part was the front, then it slimmed down considerably.

"Your ass is practically swallowing it up, sweetie," Castiel sounded like he was smiling. Dean mewled in response, clenching around the plug once it was fully inside of him. Castiel attached the twenty-something inch tail part to the end circle and the plug got a little heavier. "Sit up."

Dean pushed himself up and looked back at his ass, shaking it and watching the tail move from side to side. His cock twitched between his legs, feeling heavy. "Mew," he stared as the Dom stood and walked to the sink, washing his hands of the lube before returning to Dean as he dried his hands on a cloth. 

He tossed it on the bed and reached up, removing his tie and folding it around his knuckles twice, leaving the thinner part to dangle from his hand. He stepped in front of Dean and wiggled it around, moving it back and forth. Dean followed it with sharp eyes, narrowing them slightly to keep from having to blink so much.

"Come on, kitty," he urged. Dean growled lowly and lifted his right hand, batting at the end of the tail and frowning when Castiel immediately lifted it up and away. He smiled and lowered it again, pushing his hand outwards more and brushing the soft blue silk against Dean's face.

Dean growled louder, pulling his head back and sitting back on his feet, lifting both hands and batting at the tie, trying to grab it but failing each time as his Dom pulled it away quickly. He bared his teeth at the man and clawed at his leg, lunging forward and biting the end of the tie successfully.

"Be nice, kitten, or I'll have to punish you," Castiel clucked his tongue, making it seem like he was angry, but he smiled anyways. He tugged on the tie but Dean refused to let go so he pulled at it as well, glaring at the Dom when he laughed. "Come on, let go."

Dean flared his nostrils and lifted his hand, pressing down on the middle of the tie and trying to make Castiel let go of it. "Ghrmew." Castiel's brows furrowed for a moment at the noise he'd made, but then he crouched and placed a hand on the nape of Dean's neck.

"Let go," he ordered, tone sharp and cutting. Dean immediately let go of the tie, dropping his hands and lowering his head with a quiet meow. "Good boy," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "My good little kitty, aren't you?"

Dean closed his eyes halfway, purring slightly and shuffling closer. "Lay down on your side," Castiel said, dropping his hand and standing. Dean dropped down onto his right side, staring up at his Dom curiously. The man dropped the tie over Dean's face and stepped back, walking across the room.

Dean hissed and batted at the tie, pushing it off his face and biting it with his teeth, baring them as Castiel filled a small bowl with water and grabbed a small bag before walking back to him. He set the bowl on the floor and crouched, pulling open the bag of, Dean squinted, chocolate pretzels.

"Come here, kitty," he crooned, reaching into the bag and pulling one out. Dean pushed himself up and dropped the tie from his mouth, crawling over to Castiel with a drag of chain on wood floor. He sat back, hands between his legs and eyed the pretzel. "Tilt your head back." He did. "Now be a good boy and don't move."

Castiel carefully balanced the pretzel on his nose, smirking. "Like a little puppy now, aren't you?" Dean growled, baring his teeth and accidentally dropping the pretzel to the floor. Castiel shook his head, sighing. "What did I say?"

"Meow," he whimpered, ducking his head. Castiel pointed at the pretzel.

"Eat it," he said, gaze hard and daring as Dean eyed him for a moment. He slowly bent down and opened his mouth, using his teeth to pick up the pretzel and munching on it carefully, swallowing it a little dryly. "Good. Now drink some water."

Dean lowered his head again and frowned at the bowl of water placed between Castiel's feet. He stuck his tongue out and licked it, pouting slightly when he barely got any water into his mouth. He tried slurping it inside, but that made him get water on his nose. Castiel stood and stepped back, walking around the room and stopping and then continuing multiple times.

"Kitty."

"Mew?" He lifted his head, wide eyes staring up at his Dom. Castiel held out a pretzel, too high for him to comfortably reach it. Dean crawled over anyways, lifting his body up and trying to bite the treat. 

"No," Castiel shook his head. "You still haven't thanked me for the other treat." Dean whined and shuffled closer, nuzzling Castiel's lower belly with a soft noise. "You think you deserve it?" He chuffed in reply. "I think you do." He lowered his hand and held out the pretzel, letting Dean bit it and take it into his mouth.

"I hid some of your... treats around the room," Castiel looked around casually, walking over and sitting at the foot of the bed. "There are six. Find them. You may eat them if you like."

Dean looked around wildly, trying to remembering where Castiel had stood when he had been drinking the water. He crawled over to the right side of the bed, ducking his head and eyeing the floor. There! He dove for it, hesitating for a second before biting into it and munching on the pretzel happily. That was one.

He turned and looked around, freezing and backtracking as he spotted one by one of the table legs and another by the feet of the chair. He scrambled forward, stopping beside the table leg and biting the treat loudly before turning the one by the chair and doing the same to it. Two and three.

Dean licked his lips and teeth, slowly moving forward and looking all over. He spotted the fourth by the door and shuffled over, eating it before turning to look for the last two. He glanced at Castiel who leaned back on his palms, a small smile on his face as he watched him. Dean dropped his gaze to his feet and saw a pretzel sitting on his shoe.

He carefully moved forward, eyeing it suspiciously. Dean leaned down and bit it, chewing as he looked around the floor, or what he could see anyways. There was five. He sat back, frowning up at his Dom. He froze, suddenly spotting the last pretzel sitting on the small, natural, tent in Castiel's slacks. He inched forward, eyeing the man's face, and carefully wrapped his lips around the treat, biting it cautiously. Six!

Castiel lifted his hand and rubbed his head, hand sliding down his face to his chin and gently scratching the underneath. "Good boy," he said. "You found all of them." Dean fluttered his eyes shut, leaning down and brushing his nose against Castiel's knee, biting the fabric of his slacks carefully. He was tired.

Castiel slipped the headband off his head, making him open his eyes and stare curiously. He smiled and sat forward, brushing his lips over the top of Dean's head. He reached down and lifted his hands, removing the cuffs without undoing the chain. "Turn around for me, _Dean_ ," he said, emphasizing his name.

Dean frowned and did so, glancing back and watching as he undid the ankle cuffs the same way he undid his wrist ones. He unattached the tail piece and slowly slid the plug out, making Dean grunt quietly. He set it on the towel from earlier, gesturing Dean to turn again.

Castiel undid the collar and stood, gathering the items and setting them on the table close to their clothes. He quickly rinsed his hand, shaking them of water, grabbed a banana and juice box and a couple bottles of water, setting them on the table beside the bed.

He returned to Dean, kneeling in front of him and cupping his face. "I need you to come back to me, Dean," he said, thumb brushing over his cheek tenderly. Dean blinked and yawned, reaching up to cover his mouth.

"I'm here," he muttered, watching Castiel stand. He held his hand out and Dean took it, letting himself be pulled to his feet. Castiel guided him to the bed and pulled it down, kicking his shoes off and sliding onto it, patting the space between his legs.

Dean hesitated then did so, crawling between his legs and laying down, relaxing against his chest. He cuddled in closer, realizing his cock wasn't hard anymore, and it probably hadn't been for a little while. He shrugged to himself, yawning again and closing his eyes.

Castiel shifted around and held the juice box towards him, straw poking out the top. Dean latched onto it, sucking lightly and gratefully swallowing down mouthfuls of apple juice. "Banana?" He shook his head, closing his eyes and pulling away from the straw when he'd finished.

"Sleep," he muttered, dropping his head to Castiel's chest. "Please stay." He clutched him tightly.

"I will. I promise, Dean. I'll be here when you wake up."

"'kay."

He was trusting him.

He seriously better be here, or else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: Minor subdrop. Pet play (kitten). Cuffs. Chains. Butt plug. Tail. Cat ears. Collar. Humiliation. Drinking from a bowl. Eating off the floor. Aftercare.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit guys. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. **This chapter is goddamn dangerous.** I think you'll enjoy it though. :D
> 
> **Minor spoiler:** Also please excuse me because I don't think I've ever written a fight scene (properly) in my life. I did my best though and I hope you like it.
> 
> Unbetaed & unread & everything else, forgive me. :)

Dean sipped from his glass of water, setting it back down on the table and turning his chair to stare out into the crowd. Lucifer had revealed his brand new grappling room earlier this week, which was basically a huge room with four large circles on a huge mat for four different sets of couples to fight in at the same time, and a large viewing area for people to watch the couples, and everyone was going crazy because of it.

The Cage had more than triple the people it usually did, the club practically overflowing with them. Everyone wanted to try out the room, fight a little and fuck in front of everyone. He had to admit, he was a little intrigued. He'd never done any play fighting like this, never even thought about it. But now that it was here, he wanted it, almost desperately.

"Dean."

He turned and smiled at Castiel, watching as he sat down beside him. He glanced down at his clothes and swallowed thickly at dark grey, black pinstripe full suit. This man seriously needed to start dressing like a hobo or Dean would come in his pants from just the sight of him one day.

"How are you?" Castiel asked, setting his glass of whisky on the table. He crossed his legs, turning to Dean completely and staring with a gaze that made Dean feel vulnerable.

"Uh, good, yeah," Dean hesitated, then continued. "Lately, uh, things have been going good. My boss backed off and it's much better being at the office."

"That's good," Castiel looked incredibly pleased. "Have you been able to head home early?"

"Yeah," Dean grinned. "It's been nice. I even got to head over to my brother's place for dinner earlier this week."

"You have a brother?"

"Oh, yeah, Sam. He's, uh, a lawyer. Smart as hell."

"You're smart as well, Dean."

"I guess," Dean shrugged. "Gotta have some smarts to be where I am right now."

"It doesn't just take some, Dean," Castiel frowned. "It takes an intelligent man and that you are."

"Aw, thanks, Cas," Dean huffed. "You're making me blush."

"I like it when you blush," Castiel leaned forward, a sparkle in his eyes. "It enhances your freckles."

This time, Dean did blush. He turned his head away, even more embarrassed for doing it; and it all made his face redder. That was a new one in his book, he didn't remember anyone ever saying that to him.

Castiel hummed, sounding pleased. "Just like that," he said quietly, reaching a hand out and brushing his thumb against Dean's burning right cheek. He scooted his chair closer, turning Dean in his so he faced the Dom, and leaning his elbow on top of the bar table. His hand slid down his face and to his neck, fingers cool and gentle.

"Hey, Cas?" Dean asked, swallowing and licking his lips. He slowly reached forward with his right hand and wrapped it around the man's dark blue tie, rubbing the silk between his fingers.

"Yes, Dean?" He replied in a voice as gentle as the one Dean had used.

Dean slid his hand down the length of his tie, touching his waistcoat and continuing even further down to the belt on his pants. He skipped over his crotch and instead placed his hand on his very upper left thigh, fingers hooking over the waistband of his slacks and sliding between his abdomen and the fabric; hooking themselves in place. "You, uh-"

"Yes?" Castiel's other hand came to rest on his thigh, sliding up his jean clad left leg and to his crotch, fingers drumming tightly over the rapidly growing bulge in them. Dean inhaled sharply, flicking his gaze up from where it had fallen to the Dom's chest and staring into his sinful, pupil-blown blue eyes.

"Please..."

"Please, what?" Castiel asked innocently, lips turning up in a smile and revealing just a strip of his white teeth.

Dean rocked his hips up when the fingers pressed a little more insistently on his cock, teasing him through the rough fabric. Maybe he'd made a mistake coming commando tonight; the jean fabric was brushing so wonderfully roughly over his cock that it made him want to come right there and then.

"Dean," he prompted, lifting his fingers as if to urge him to continue, or maybe punish him for not.

Dean blinked slowly and breathed shakily. "Uh... Please scene with me."

"Good boy," Castiel whispered, sounding so goddamn proud that it pulled at something within Dean's body and made his cock twitch. Castiel pulled back and turned in his chair so his back was to the bar. "Come stand in front of me."

Dean jumped from the stool and moved in front of him, trying not to bounce on his heels eagerly. Castiel grinned and dropped his right leg off his left, leaving his legs partly spread. He patted his leg then reached forward, grabbing Dean's hips and practically lifting him up.

Dean straddled him, wondering if he was heavy as he gripped his shoulders to keep steady. "We need to talk first, Dean," Castiel said, looking behind him at something. He turned back to Dean, completely serious. "This probably isn't the best place to speak about this, and in this position too, but I'd rather you be as close to me as possible so other's don't listen in."

Dean frowned, sitting back slightly and looking around. No one was really in their vicinity, so they were safe. He looked back at Castiel, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, please don't think so," Castiel smiled. "I just want to talk about limits."

"Didn't we already go over this?"

"We did but that was only hard limits. I'm talking soft limits, specifically."

"Oh," Dean frowned and tried to remember all his soft limits. "Mine are asphyxiation and breath play, knife play is a soft limit but definitely no cutting or blood, latex clothing and full masks, water games - as long as it's not being put, err, inside of me... and, uh," he fought a blush. "Cross-dressing-"

"Cross-dressing?" Castiel's eyes widened slightly and he inhaled sharply, he licked his lips, eyes flashing down to Dean's body for a second.

"Yeah," he muttered, rubbing his warm cheeks shyly. Castiel shifted lightly, hands slipping under Dean's shirts and touching his skin. "I also, uh, _really_ like... humiliation." He did his best to hide slur the last word.

"I didn't hear that last part," Castiel frowned. "Say it again?"

Dean sighed. "Humiliation," he said louder. God, his face was probably as red as a tomato. Really, it was one thing doing such actions but it was another talking about them.

"Good to know," Castiel grinned. "Mine are basically the same as yours. I know what we do is considered a... _heavier_  BDSM, uh, relationship, but I would rather not participate in anything involving latex masks. Last time I did it it didn't... go very well, to put it lightly."

"Ah," Dean frowned, trying to think of how it could have went wrong. Sure, it took a lot of trust to do something like that but what could have went wrong? Did the sub safeword? Was that what he meant? Or was it worse? "That's okay. I'm not a huge fan of latex anyways."

"I'd also like to try something different today, Dean," Castiel looked away again, a small grin appearing. "What do you know about grappling?"

"You wanna participate in that?" Dean felt excitement course through him but tried to contain it. "Not much to be honest."

"It's basically fighting without seriously injuring the other," Castiel said, before launching into an explanation of what was okay to do and what wasn't.

When he was done, Dean asked, "Do we win anything."

"If you win, you get to fuck me."

"What?" Dean squeaked.

"You get to fuck me. Dick in the ass?" Dean rolled his eyes. "If I win, I get to fuck you."

"Do you want that though? Like, you're not just saying that for me, right?"

"Of course not. I don't think I'd enjoy the sex in the same way you would but it would be fun." Castiel said, smiling.

"Okay, good." Dean nodded to himself.

"Condom?"

Dean hummed thoughtfully, thinking about it. "No." They hadn't used one when Castiel had sucked him off. "I'm clean." So why now?

"I am as well." Castiel nodded to himself more than Dean. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to try asphyxiation on you when we have sex."

"Yeah..." Dean hesitated. "I don't... uh," he looked away.

"You don't have to say yes. I won't do it if you won't like it."

"I would but... it's-"

"Scary?"

"I suppose."

"I won't hurt you. I promise. If you need to stop, tap my forearm or the bed. Tap anything," Castiel slid his arms around Dean's waist, dragging him in closer. "The same goes for when we're fighting. If you want to quit, tap the floor or say your safeword. Which is still the same, yes?"

"Yes. Poughkeepsie," Dean said, feeling another flutter in his belly when Castiel smiled approvingly. "Let's do it."

"Good," Castiel leaned forward, brushing their noses together. "We'll have sex back in my room, room seven, okay?"

"Okay."

Castiel leaned in even closer, their lips brushing together in the form of a subtle kiss. "Okay," he whispered. "I know we've never really talked about scenes before we do them but I had to make sure you were okay with this. Now, do you understand everything that's going to happen?"

"Yes, sir," Dean said, biting his lip briefly when Castiel made a surprised noise, a pleased one.

***

They stood in one of the four circles, wearing nothing but their pants, Castiel having taken off his underwear when they'd stripped down in room seven earlier. Dean licked his lips, shifting on his feet and trying to ignore the people watching. Castiel stepped forward, cupping Dean's face.

"Now remember what I told you. Don't be nervous. I know this is your first time doing something like this but I need you to trust that I won't let anything happen."

Dean nodded, breathing deeply. Castiel stepped back about three feet away and held his hands up. Dean held his arms up, ready to grab Castiel or block or Jesus, he didn't know. He froze then, suddenly remembering something.

"Hey, Cas?" He asked, dropping his arms.

"Yes?" Castiel frowned.

"How do we know who wins?"

"Uh... Just ask if I submit, and I'll ask the same of you, and the answer would be no or yes." Castiel said, smiling lightly. "You ready?"

"Yes," Dean clenched his hands then relaxed them, lifting them again.

"I'll count down from three." Castiel said. "Three. Two... One."

Dean stepped forward and reached for Castiel, hands grabbing his shoulders, ready to pull him down. Castiel braced himself, hand grabbing Dean's bicep and pulling him closer, foot moving forward to trip him. Dean planted his feet firmly, wrestling lightly in an attempt to dislodge one of Castiel's hands.

He kicked his foot forward and used the side of his foot to swipe at the back of Castiel's ankle, bringing him down to the floor and pinning him to it, legs straddling his hips and hand pressing one of his wrists to the mat. Dean grinned down at him, taking in Castiel's nervous look and feeling him squirm beneath him.

"Do you submit?" He teased, blocking Castiel's other arm as it came up to push him away. He pinned it to the ground as well, grinding his hips back, his ass rubbing over Castiel's crotch.

"No," Castiel smirked. He bucked his hips up, making Dean loosen his hold on him and flipped them, slamming Dean into the mat and pressing his forearm against his throat. Dean wrapped his legs around his waist and pressed him closer, clenching his teeth and lifting his hips, struggling to twist them over again.

Fucking hell, Castiel was strong. Dean moved forward and bit his shoulder lightly, shocking him enough to get him to loosen his grip. Dean pushed him off and scrambled backwards, crouching and breathing a little heavy.

Castiel glared at him from the other side of the circle, eyes partly narrowed. "That's dirty," he said.

"You never said I couldn't bite you," Dean replied, smirking.

Though this only seemed to tick something off in Castiel, his lips pressing thin as he stood tall. Dean stood as well, shaking his legs lightly and rolling his shoulders. Castiel turned and walked along the edge of the circle, making Dean feel the need to back up a little.

His mind screamed that he'd done something wrong, telling him that this wasn't going to end in his favor. 

Castiel was suddenly very fast, feet practically gliding across the mat as he went for Dean. His hand shot out and grabbed Dean's shoulder, his other Dean's arm, and he pushed him down to the mat. One hand pinned his wrist, the other went around his throat and a leg moved between his, calf pressing over his crotch and knee into his stomach.

Dean groaned, bucking up against the knee shamelessly. He stared at Castiel with wide eyes, partly surprised at the sudden quickness and intrigued. Dean grabbed at the arm of the hand on his throat, squeezing it and trying to move it away. He moved his legs, attempting to move Castiel's knee but not wanting to try too hard in case it hurt his dick, or worse, his balls.

"Do you submit?" Castiel asked, smirking at him.

"No," Dean glared, shooting his free hand up and grabbing Castiel's hair, pulling on it and making him inhale sharply. He took the shock for what it was and pushed the man off, bringing himself up to his knees and moving to pin Castiel to the floor in the same position he'd just pinned Dean. "Do you submit?" He breathed heavily, watching Castiel laugh softly.

"Of course not," he purred, eyes sharp. Unlike Dean, Castiel didn't seem concerned about protecting his groin. He lifted his leg, kneeing Dean in the ass, and a little lower, shocking him enough to lean a little heavier into him.

Castiel hit his other leg with his same one, the one that was on the floor beside his body, bracing it. He pushed Dean back, making him fall back on his ass with a grunt. He lunged for Dean, taking him down and sliding up his body.

He pinned Dean's arms flat, calves digging into his arms, close to his armpits. The Dom's cock was nearly directly in front of his face. Castiel grabbed the top of his hair and leaned back, other arm reaching down Dean's body and grabbing his cock through his jeans.

"Fuck!" He cursed, bucking his hips and growling softly. It wasn't an arousing grab, it was one that was meant to hurt. Dean brought his hands up, barely reaching Castiel's thighs. He pushed at them, moving his hips away and turning his shoulders so he could dislodge him.

Castiel rolled away, ending up on his hands and knees before he moved to a crouch. Dean scrambled up, not wanting to be pinned in that position again. He reached down and rubbed his cock which was a little shamefully hard from the previous treatment.

Castiel grinned when he saw this, eyes crinkling at the corners and sparkling with laughter. Dean huffed and stood, wiggling his toes against the smooth mat. Castiel stood as well, rolling his shoulders and rocking on his feet.

Dean moved forward, grabbing Castiel and preparing to pull him down to the mat. The man countered, planting his feet firmly and grabbing Dean, nearly flipping him and slamming him down into the mat. Castiel stepped back and circled Dean as groaned as his back ached for a moment.

"I hate you," he muttered, glaring hard as Castiel threw his head back and laughed a little breathlessly. Dean sat up and watched Castiel come stand by his feet.

"Did you think this was going to be easy, Dean?" He asked, raising a brow almost tauntingly.

"I really fucking hate you," Dean huffed, rubbing at a somewhat sore spot on his right shoulder.

Castiel suddenly stepped forward and dropped to his knees, legs on either side of Dean's thighs. His hand wrapped around his throat and his other went on Dean's chest. He pushed him back, then moved his hands from his chest and slapped him across the face.

Dean groaned and blinked, turning to look back at Castiel. "Fuck you," he muttered, pouting a little.

Castiel grinned and leaned down, kissing him deeply; all tongue and teeth. He bit his lips and his tongue, lapped at his tongue and practically shoved it down his throat. Dean moaned in reply, squirming halfheartedly beneath him.

"Fuck," he gasped when he pulled away, blinking a little dazedly. Castiel slapped him again, bringing him out of his - kind of! - stupor, and grabbing his jaw and squeezing his cheeks. He hummed and leaned back, hand squeezing his neck lightly; a tease for later probably.

Dean reached up and grabbed both his arms, bucking his hips up like Castiel had done earlier and making him loosen his hold. He flipped them, wrapping his hand around Castiel's throat and slapping him across the face instead.

Really bad idea.

Castiel's eyes darkened with anger and dark humor and he reached up, pushing Dean back and between his legs. He sat up and flipped Dean onto his front, crawling over him.

Castiel pressed him into the floor, pulling his arm behind his back and forcing it up high, keeping him in place. His free hand pressed against the nape of Dean's neck, forcing his shoulders to remain pinned to the mat. Dean bit his lip, cock twitching, and he breathed in heavily through his nose.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Dean was screwed now. If he moved he'd probably dislocate his shoulder, if he didn't he would lose completely. Dean bit his lip though, dick pulsing lightly against the mat. Not many people could actually pin him down to the ground. Especially so easily.

Castiel hummed in Dean's ear, biting the shell gently. He waited a beat, breathing hard. "Do you submit?" He murmured, breath hot on his ear.

Dean nodded and moaned, rocking his hips into the mat. "Yes," he croaked. "Oh my God, yes. Please just fuck me, sir," he begged, trembling lightly beneath him. Castiel laughed softly, a few quick puffs of air on his wet ear.

"Good boy," he cooed, loosening his grip and standing. He helped Dean to his feet, yanking him in close and reaching between their bodies. He grabbed Dean's crotch, squeezing his cock tightly and kissing him at the same time.

Dean groaned loudly, arching his back slightly and grabbing Castiel's sweaty shoulders, holding him tightly as they kissed and he rocked into his hand. "Dammit," he whimpered. "Please fuck me."

Castiel grinned against his mouth and bit his bottom lip, pulling on it as he moved his head back. Dean's lip dragged through his teeth, pulling almost painfully on his inner gums. He moaned and lowered his head, dropping it to Castiel's shoulder as his cock twitched in his pants.

"Please," he whispered throatily, clenching his ass.

"I'm not prepping you, but I will use lube," Castiel replied, letting go of his cock.

Dean whined and nodded eagerly. "Please, please," he muttered, breaths shaky and uneven.

Castiel stepped back and grabbed his hand, pulling him partly behind him as he walked to the doors of the room. He weaved his way through congratulating patrons, smiling politely as he did. Castiel led him down halls until they reached his room.

He opened the door and pushed Dean inside, stepping in as well and slamming it shut behind him. "Lose the pants and get on the bed," he growled, stalking over to the fridge.

Dean moaned, hands shaking as he unbuttoned his tight jeans and shoved them down, kicking them to the side and crawling onto the cool bed. He stayed on his knees but dropped to his forearms, burying his face in a pillow.

His ass was in the air and presented, cock heavy and dripping between his legs. "Sir," he whimpered, turning to look at Castiel. He could hear soft wispy-like breaths as Castiel calmed himself and continued doing... fuck, what was he doing?

"Get the lube, Dean," he said, grabbing some things and shifting around. "It's in the bottom drawer."

Dean shakily pushed himself up and reached for the drawer, opening it and pulling out a bottle of lube. He closed the drawer and dropped it on the bed, returning to his previous position. Castiel walked over to him and set some items on the table; a bowl, two bottles of water and a straw, a juice box, a wet cloth and a thin bar of chocolate.

Castiel reached out and slid his hand into Dean's hair, grabbing roughly and pulling his head up. Dean almost purred at the rough treatment, eagerly leaning forward as Castiel's leaned down and kissed him deeply. His cock twitched between his legs, aching and begging for attention.

"Cas," he whined, eyes stinging lightly. Castiel let go of his head and it dropped back onto the pillow, Dean having no will to keep it up. He undid his pants and pushed them down, kicking them back and crawling on the bed behind Dean.

He picked up the lube and Dean heard him open it and squirt some out. He heard the slick slide of his hand on his cock and then felt his cheeks being spread open before the head of Castiel's cock pressed against his hole. He mercilessly slid in fast and hard, burying himself balls deep in his ass.

Dean sobbed, feeling a rush of pain as he was stretched impossibly around the man's cock abruptly. "Oh God, oh God," he gasped, clenching around him, legs trembling. "Please-"

Castiel grabbed his hair again and lifted him up, his other hand sliding up his sweaty back and wrapped around the front of his neck, his throat. He twisted Dean's hair, sending tingles throughout his whole body.

"Casss-"

"Shut the fuck up," he snapped, hand tightening around Dean's throat. Dean choked and bucked his hips, shaking terribly. Castiel slid out of him, right to the tip, then rammed straight back in, sending Dean forward and making him cry out and choke as the hand tightened further.

His cock jerked roughly, slapping against his stomach and his thigh. Dean's eyes burned as Castiel started fucking him hard, sliding in and out and purposefully missing his prostate with each thrust. His lungs burned as his body recognized that he couldn't inhale air, that he couldn't breathe. He felt panic begin to rise and his mind scream that he needed to struggle, to push the hand cutting off his air supply away.

Just as he was about to give in, about to touch Castiel's hand and tell him it was too much, the Dom loosened his grip and Dean inhaled loudly and sharply, heaving quick and deep breaths in and out. Almost too soon, the hand started squeezing again, choking him once more.

Dean sobbed, toes curling and hands grasping fruitlessly at the sheets as if they could help him. Castiel pulled out of his ass and paused, changing angles and slamming back in, ramming his prostate so hard, he almost felt like he saw stars.

"Oh-" Dean's lips parted, the last of his breath escaping, and the hand tightening painfully around his neck. He struggled to breath, desperate for air as Castiel pounded his prostate, sending him further and further towards an inevitable orgasm.

"Dirty little boy, aren't you?" Castiel rasped suddenly from behind him, letting go of his hair. The numbness that had set in disappeared as he suddenly felt a harsh throb in his scalp, sending shivers down his spine. "My dirty boy."

Dean's eyes stung and a tear slid down his cheek, but he couldn't even make a sound. Castiel loosened his grip and slid his hand up and over his face, covering his mouth and squeezing his nose once he inhaled air once.

Dean shook his head, trying to pull away but Castiel easily went with him. God, he was so close. He was going to come and Castiel hadn't even said if he could. He couldn't even ask! Dean felt more tears slip down his face, rolling over Castiel's hand and hitting the bed below.

"Slut," he whispered into Dean's ear. Dean clawed at the sheets, lips parting against Castiel's palm as he whimpered pathetically.

Castiel let go of him and pulled out, roughly flipping Dean's body so he was on his back. He slid back in, aiming for his prostate again and wrapping his hand around Dean's throat. Dean heaved in breaths, panting and whining as he rocked his hips.

"Cas," he croaked, throat raw and painful. "Please?"

"No," Castiel hummed, panting as he fucked into Dean. "Don't you dare come."

"I can't-" he sobbed, voice cracking. "Can't-"

"You can and you better fucking not come," he growled, lifting Dean's leg, hand hooking under his knee pit and spreading him further, opening him. Dean sobbed, swallowing thickly, tears spilling from his eyes. He shook his head, clenching tightly around Castiel and struggling to keep his orgasm at bay.

"Ahh-" he gasped, arching off the bed. "Plee-eas-se..."

Castiel smirked cruelly at him, removing his hand from his neck only to slap him across the face roughly. It tore another sharp cry from his raw throat and nearly made him come all over himself. His thighs shook, hell, his whole body shook.

"Gonna come, gonna come," he rasped. "Please- Don't- _Help!_ " He begged, feeling despair wash over him as he felt his balls draw up and his cock swell further.

Castiel's hand snaked down his body fast and wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing tightly as he had a small orgasm but didn't ejaculate and _completely_ disobey him. He let go of Dean's cock when he calmed down a little and lifted his hand to his face, slapping him with the back of his hand then the front.

"Sorry, sorry, sor-ry, sorry," Dean slurred, shaking his head and sobbing. Castiel didn't say anything, and it hurt, made him think he was bad, but he knew he wasn't angry, he didn't seem it. He hoped. "Sorrrrry-"

"Shh," Castiel lowered Dean's leg, dropping his body over him and slowing his thrusts. He buried his face in Dean's sweaty neck, licking at the salty skin. Dean desperately moved his hips, his cock suddenly finding somewhere to rut against; Castiel's stomach pressing tightly over his throbbing member.

"Pretty please, sir?" he whimpered, shaky hands reaching to touch the Dom. 

Castiel kissed softly up his neck to his ear, panting heavily. "Come for me, sweetie," he whispered gently.

Dean's eyes rolled back into his head and he arched his back almost painfully off the bed. He screamed as he finally came, tears of relief and pleasure and god he didn't know sliding down the sides of his face. "Oh my God, oh m-m-my God-d, oh-hh m-" he gasped over and over, hips moving roughly as he come between both their chests.

He slumped against the sheets, barely aware that Castiel had come, and was now pulling away from him. He whined but didn't have the energy to reach for him, or even speak. Castiel brushed something cool against his body, cleaning his chest of come and his ass as well. He cleaned himself before tossing it away.

Castiel trembled lightly as well, or maybe it was just Dean alone, as he moved him over and pulled the sheets back. He pulled Dean into his arms, tucking the covers around both their bodies. "Take a moment," he whispered heavily. "But don't sleep. Not yet."

"Mm," Dean snuggled in closer, still breathing a little roughly. What felt like a couple moments later, a straw poked at his lips and he reluctantly parted them. He felt a rush of relief though when he sucked and let the cool juice rush into his mouth and then down his throat, soothing him for the moment.

Castiel fed him pieces of chocolate, which he sucked on until was gone, and little slices of banana, which he mashed with his tongue and the roof of his mouth before swallowing, feeling too lazy to even chew it.

"That was wonderful, Dean. God, you were perfect," Castiel whispered suddenly, making little noises as he swallowed down some water from one of the bottles. He set it back on the nightstand and run his hand through Dean's hair, rubbing his back and sides as well.

Dean sighed, blinking his eyes before closing them. He was drained, completely, and he didn't even want to listen as Castiel whispered sweet little praises and pressed tiny kisses against his hair and face; but he did at the same time, so he struggled to stay awake, clinging to the words and feeling happy little butterflies in his tummy.

"St-ay," he painfully murmured, clearing his throat a little.

"Of course," Castiel shifted them, pulling Dean from between his legs. He slid down the bed so he could lay beside him, letting Dean use his shoulder as a pillow and holding him close. "Let's just sleep."

"'kay," Dean whispered, yawning lightly. Castiel kissed his forehead, nose buried in his hair, their legs intertwined as they held each other tightly, each reluctant to be more than an inch apart right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: Grappling. Face-slapping. Choking / Asphyxiation / Breath play. Orgasm Delay/Denial. Rough sex. Begging. Limit talk. Pet names. Name-calling. Hair-pulling. Aftercare.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! And tell me things you want me to write about. I'm pretty open to everything. :)
> 
> Unbetaed, unread, forgive me and enjoy! <3

Dean walked into the club Friday night, glancing around at the couples in various states of undress. He sighed and shuffled up to the counter, pausing when he noticed Castiel sitting in the corner with his head in his hands. He frowned and decided to ignore getting a drink for the moment, walking up to Castiel and sitting beside him. "Hi," he said after a moment of silence, fidgeting when Castiel didn't reply, nor move. "Uh, Cas?"

"Yes. Hello, Dean," he said eventually, sighing and lifting his head with what looked like a lot of effort. He blinked several times before turning his tired blue eyes to Dean. "How are you?"

"I think the real question here is, how are _you_?" Dean pressed his lips together, looking over Castiel's rumpled suit and sagging posture. "Seriously, are you okay?"

"I was up all night working on a problem at work," he said, waving his hand at Benny, who nodded and grabbed a glass as he walked over to them. "I'm fine." Benny filled the glass with Lagavulin - Dean squinted, shit was that 30? - and set it on the table, turning to Dean with a raised brow. Dean shook his head, watching Benny set the bottle on the counter, shrug and walk off.

"You sure as hell don't look fine," Dean replied, watching Castiel huff and pick up the glass and down it in one quick shot.

"I'm fine."

"Seriously, maybe you should sleep, or stop drinking."

"I said I'm fine, Dean," he snapped, eyes suddenly sharp as they flashed to him. "Besides, it's not really your business anyways, is it? You're just here to see if I'll beat you until you come." Castiel snorted, picking up the bottle and filling the glass with three fingers of whisky.

Dean swallowed, looking down at his hands. "Yeah," he muttered. "Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry." He waited and watched as Castiel drank down that glass as well, then he stood and stepped back. Clearly, Castiel wasn't having a good night, and he didn't want company. That's fine. Whatever.

"Dean," he ignored him and stalked off into the crowd, dodging people. He stopped beside stage number two, watching for a moment as a young girl was beaten with a flogger, her moans clear and loud. He felt sick. He looked around, shivering at the people so close to him, and then pushed past them to head for the exit. He was so not staying here tonight.

He noticed Castiel wandering around the crowd, looking around almost desperately, as he walked by, and Dean ducked behind a few people so he wouldn't be seen. He shuffled past the security guards at the door, glancing down the sidewalk at the short line of people waiting. He snorted and turned, heading for the little garage Lucifer had for his loyal customers, ready to grab his car and go home to sleep.

***

Dean came back Saturday night, later than yesterday, and made sure he didn't see Castiel anywhere as he sat down in the corner of the bar. Benny didn't notice him, too busy making a drink and flirting with a cute blonde girl.

Dean sighed and turned his chair, looking out into the crowd and watching for a moment as some Domme skillfully tied up a young man with rope, making intricate knots over his body. It was mesmerizing to watch as she smoothly pulled and pushed, twisting and straightening.

"Dean."

"Christ!" He jumped, turning wide eyes to look to his right. "Shit, Charlie," he muttered, laughing and trying to brush the whole thing off. Charlie smirked at him, plopping down next to him with Gilda dropping to her knees. "How are you guys?"

"Good, good," Charlie wore jeans and a Star Trek t-shirt today, instead of her usual revealing leather outfits. Gilda, on the other hand, was a naked except for the cuffs locking her wrists together. "Been busy with work and stuff."

"Ah," Dean nodded in understanding. "Same here."

"I heard you and Cas danced it out on the new mat," Charlie said slowly, a smirk on her face. "Was it fun?"

"Uh, yeah. It was... new," Dean shrugged. Charlie hesitated, looking like she wanted to say something. "What?"

She sighed and looked into the crowd, searching for something... or someone. "I saw Cain earlier."

"You're joking, right?" No way in hell was Cain here. Dean looked around, feeling nervous and excited. He hadn't seen Cain in _ages_. "Where is he?"

"He has a new sub," Charlie said, frowning.

"Oh," Dean swallowed. He shouldn't be sad. It was only right Cain got a new sub after they broke their arrangement off; hell, he'd had multiple Doms. "Where is... where is he?"

"Stage six," Charlie stood. "Shall we?" Gilda stood and Dean followed them through the crowd, heading for stage six. It was then he noticed stage seven though, its lights were on and Castiel was standing by the table, back to the crowd. There was no submissive in sight though, and not many people were paying him any attention. "Look."

Dean turned his eyes from Castiel and looked up at stage six, lips parting as he saw Cain. He looked the same and yet so different. His hair had more grey streaks and he'd grown his beard out, his muscles appearing more defined than Dean remembered them. He was wearing a chest harness and leather pants, his thick black boots shining under the stage light as he walked around a young man with short brown hair.

Cain looked out into the crowd many times, whispering things only the sub on stage could hear. His words seemed to make the sub blush and squirm though, and it made Dean wonder what he was saying. Dean stayed behind Charlie and Gilda and a tall Dom, trying to stay hidden so that Cain wouldn't see him. That might be a little awkward.

"Dean." He jumped and turned around, groaning when he realized it was just Castiel. He glanced at Charlie then back at Castiel, frowning.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry," Castiel said, looking awkward as he shuffled his feet. "I didn't mean to be rude yesterday. I was tired and-"

"It's-" Dean glanced back at stage six and Cain, watching for a brief second as he cuffed the sub's wrists. Dean leaned closer to Castiel, lips close to the man's ear. "Scene with me and I'll forgive you." Maybe he could somehow get Cain to look over at stage seven too.

"But Dean-"

"Now or never again." 

"Why do you keep doing this to me?" Castiel growled, looking genuinely angry. "You keep giving me an ultimatum and it's not fair, Dean."

"You gonna whine or are we going to scene?" Dean knew he was pushing it, especially by how angry Castiel seemed to be getting.

Castiel grabbed him by his hair, forcing him to bend over as he started dragging him to the stage. Dean groaned and stumbled after him, wincing every time he bumped into someone and trying to mutter an apology that got lost in the air when they just laughed.

Castiel pushed him to the center of the stage, letting go of his hair and walking away. Dean rubbed his head, frowning as people turned to look at him. He glanced to the side, noticing Cain gazing at him with a mild look of shock. Fuck yes.

Dean looked back at Castiel as he set a wooden block in front of his feet, frowning. "Strip," he said, stepping back and shrugging off his blazer. Dean sighed and started removing his clothes, walking back to the table and setting them down. He tucked his socks into his shoes then returned to Castiel, standing in front of the block.

Castiel stepped in front of him, holding Dean's elbows in his palms. "Slowly stand on the block," he said softly. "I'll steady you."

Dean hesitated, looking at Castiel then the block and back again. He breathed then lifted his foot, setting it on it and standing up. His other leg hovered in the air, as he was uncertain if he should try and set it on the small block with his other foot.

He turned his leg, setting his other foot beside the first, shaking slightly before managing to get a decent steadiness with both of his legs turned as he stood on the balls of his feet, toes curled over the sides of the block.

"Now slowly crouch with your legs spread," Castiel instructed, keeping a firm hold on his elbows. Dean carefully crouched, almost falling over if Castiel hadn't held him tighter. He ended up with his ass touching the back of his ankle and his knees spread wide and open. Castiel stepped around him, taking his arms and making his forearms parallel on his back.

"Cas." He couldn't do this.

Castiel let go of him and he tensed, nearly falling over if Castiel hadn't grabbed him. "Just breathe and focus on staying straight." Dean did, feeling a little nervous as Castiel slowly slid his hands away. "Good boy." He warmed at the praise but couldn't help but feel it was too soon when he felt the burn in his arms and legs. He was so not used to these types of positions and he was going to fail.

Castiel walked away and he desperately wanted to turn and look back at what he was doing but Dean was afraid he was going to fall over if he did. He settled for looking out into the intrigued crowd that was quickly forming around the stage, trying to stay calm and still.

Castiel was talking to someone behind him, or it sounded like he was talking to someone. It could just be someone else, for all he knew. Dean licked his lips, looking down between his legs and feeling slightly embarrassed at the sight of his half-erect cock.

Dean struggled to keep his arms together and his body straight, wobbling on the wooden block and feeling like his heart was going to jump out of his chest each time he moved. Castiel walked in front of him again, hands disappearing behind his back as he stood in front of Dean. Dean looked at him from head to toe, swallowing when he realized he was only wearing his slacks, and probably his underwear; bare from even shoes and socks.

"Safeword?"

"Poughkeepsie," Dean said immediately, frowning.

"We'll be using stoplight as well. Green to continue, yellow to stop, red or Poughkeepsie to end the scene. Are we clear?" Castiel raised one eyebrow.

"Yes, sir. We're clear." Dean licked his lips. Castiel hummed, pleased, and stepped closer, crouching down in front of Dean and leaning his head in towards him.

"Do you know the man on stage six?" Castiel asked, voice soft enough that only Dean could hear him.

He swallowed, eyes darting to the side to see Cain in the process of tying his sub's arms behind his back with rope. "Y-yes, sir," he said, turning his eyes away and staring down at his feet. "He was... He was an old Dom of mine. I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why are you sorry?" Castiel sounded confused, and a quick glance at him told Dean it was genuine. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I dunno. It's weird," Dean shrugged, then tensed as he wobbled. "Can I get off this thing now?"

"Get your cock soft and we'll see," Castiel said, leaning back and standing. He walked around Dean, disappearing behind him once more.

Dean sighed and looked at his cock, closing his eyes and trying to think of the grossest, least pleasing images he could. He shuddered, feeling sick as he imagined his brother naked, along with his uncle in a speedo and Adler in a mini skirt... and only a mini skirt.

Dean opened his eyes and looked down sadly at his soft cock, wanting to pout but refraining. Castiel knelt in front of him, hands holding a steel cock cage. "May I?"

"Yes, sir," Dean bit his lip, watching as Castiel slid it on and locked a small padlock onto it. He held up two keys, one dangling from a silver bead chain - the kind the military used for dog tags - and the other just held between his thumb and index. He slid one key into his pocket and put the chain around his neck and stood.

"I'm going to be wearing this for the rest of the night." Dean nodded. "I wanted to ask you something, Dean."

"Sure?"

"I'm assuming next week we'll most likely have another scene, yes?" He frowned and nodded again. "Would you wear the cage from now until then?"

"Are... What?" Dean almost fell back, but Castiel reached out and steadied him, leaning in close.

"Would you wear the cock cage for the next week? One-hundred and sixty-eight hours, seven days."

"I-" Dean looked down at the cage again, feeling his cock twitch in the metal, throbbing with a rush of blood that attempted to harden his cock and failed. Did he want to wear the cage out of their scenes? Was it okay if he said no? But he didn't want to say no. "Okay."

"Really?" Castiel sounded surprised. "I-I mean," he cleared his throat. "Okay. I'll give you this key when we're done then. You may take the cage off whenever you like, or if you can't handle it anymore."

"Okay." Dean watched Castiel look around.

"Stand," Castiel grabbed his shoulders, helping him step off the block and standing straight.

Dean groaned, shaking his legs out. "Fuck," he muttered, rolling his shoulders and loosening his arms. Castiel smiled slightly and guided him backwards, making him turn around. He'd set up a spanking bench, Dean realized, eyes widening. 

That motherfucker.

It was different than what Dean was used to. It was high, probably higher than his waist level, five feet long and a foot wide, and it was thickly padded on the sides and top. It was basically a leather bench without a backing and with two big wooden handles about two feet apart in the middle.

"Lift yourself up with the handles," Castiel ordered, pushing Dean forward lightly.

Dean complied, stepping over to the bench and grabbing the handles. He hesitated for a second before lifting himself up, putting his weight on the bench, and leaning forward. His lower abdomen pressed against the top of the bench, but it was surprisingly comfortable and soft; and his cock lay against the side between his spread thighs.

Dean's feet barely touched the floor, only the very tips of his toes making contact. He lowered his arms and stared at them, looking at the two legs of the bench closest to them and eyeing the hooks attached.

Castiel knelt in front of him and attached cuffs to his wrists, hooking them to the legs of the bench. Then he stood and locked a heavy chain over his lower back, attaching it probably to the handles. "Try and move."

Dean jerked his arms, but he didn't move more than a couple inches. He pushed himself up the best he could and winced as the chain dug into his skin. He slumped back down, his cock twitching inside the cage.

"Good?"

"Good," Dean muttered, shifting his hips. Castiel stepped behind him, his hand rubbing over his ass, squeezing his cheeks and spreading them slightly. He slapped him lightly, just enough for a minor sting that went away after barely five seconds.

Castiel attached something to his ankles next, cuffs probably, and then hooked them to the other legs of the bench. "Lift your legs." Dean tried, but didn't bend his knees more than three inches. "Good. Are you okay?"

"Yes, sir," Dean let his head drop, his neck aching from keeping it up. It was a little weird with his head hanging but it wasn't bad.

A slick finger rubbed over his hole, making Dean groan deeply. There was no teasing as it slid in, working itself in and out, twisting within him and stroking his insides. He clenched around the finger, tugging fruitlessly at his cuffs and struggling to rock back against the finger; he couldn't.

Castiel pushed another finger in, purposefully missing his prostate as he fucked him slowly. "Sir," Dean groaned, twitching. A third finger joined in before he was ready, sending a sharp burn through him, and he tensed at it.

Castiel fucked him with his fingers for a few more seconds before slipping them out. Something firm and thick nudged against his rim and then slowly pushed in. Dean moaned as the dildo stretched him almost painfully, sliding into his slicked entrance easily. Castiel pressed the base snug against his rim then he walked in front of him.

Dean lifted his head and watched as Castiel wiped his fingers off with a towel. He tossed it back onto the table and picked up a short flogger, twirling it in his hands before walking back to Dean. He placed a hand on his ass, setting the flogger down on the outside of the handle to his left. Castiel rubbed his ass, slapping and rubbing it, warming him up.

Dean breathed deeply, shifting on his big toes as much as he could. Castiel slapped him hard, making him grunt quietly, and rubbed the spot, soothing the sting. He did it again and again until Dean's ass started to tingle with pain. Dean bit his lip, slumping with a pleased sigh.

Castiel picked up the flogger and stepped directly behind him, stroking the leather tails over his ass and thighs. "I want you to scream, Dean," Castiel said, hitting him lightly with the flogger tails. Dean felt sweat trickle up his spine, rolling into his hair. "I want everyone to hear you."

Castiel struck him across the backs of his thighs, it stung but it didn't sting enough. Dean still groaned in response, cock twitching. Castiel did it again, snapping the flogger against his sit spots. The next one went down his left ass cheek and thighs, followed by an identical hit to his right side. Dean squirmed, clenching around the dildo inside of him.

"I don't think I like this flogger," Castiel said, walking to the table. He tossed it on and looked at the floggers laid out, ranging from beginner level style with a short suede like flogger to a _very_ intermediate style with a swivel-handled flogger. Castiel picked up a horsehair flogger, shaking it in the air and squinting.

He turned to Dean with a sadistic grin and walked over to him, dragging the flogger over his back and to his ass. Dean shuddered with his whole body, tingles shooting up and down his spine. Castiel hit him with the flogger, and it hurt, especially since Dean knew it was a very light hit.

Castiel snapped the flogger against his ass, making a sharp pain erupt over his cheeks. Dean jerked his arms to his shoulders, unable to move and lifted his head and shoulders as much as he could, a sharp little cry escaping his throat. He'd been so unprepared for the level of sting it gave, it wasn't even funny.

The dildo inside of him suddenly came to life, and he jumped with shock. Immediately after that he moaned and bucked against the side of the horse, cock struggling to get hard in the cage. The vibrator pressed against his prostate, simulating him and milking him of precum that dripped out of his fairly soft cock.

Castiel repeated the hit with the flogger over his thighs and he cried out again, jerking his legs and twitching. The chain across his lower back dug into his skin, pulled tight and taut as he jerked up and tried to move. When he moved, the vibrator pulsed inside of him and started vibrating harder, sending tingles of pure pleasure racing through his body.

"Color?"

"Green," he muttered.

Castiel made a noise of acknowledgement then hit him fast and hard, one hit landing and another following before Dean could even register the sensation from the first. He worked him over mercilessly, forcing highly embarrassing cries from Dean and making him jerk in his restraints desperately. The mix of pleasure and pain too much for him. He probably would have come if it weren't for the damn cage. 

His eyes stung with tears and his body ached from all the jerking around, the chain hurting his back. He let out a sharp sob, body trembling as tears slipped down his face. He felt calm though, something inside of him unclenching and relaxing. But the damn chain. Christ.

"Cas, Cas," he gasped, panting and trying to breath so he could speak. Castiel landed another hit on his ass. "Cas! Y-yellow, yellow."

He heard a sharp inhale from behind him then the vibrator turned off and Castiel was kneeling beside him, flogger resting on the floor by his feet. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" Castiel asked, running a hand through his hair gently, wiping away tears with his other hand. Dean blinked and breathed for a moment, trying to calm down enough so he could speak.

"Chain," he slurred, throat scratchy, licking his lips. Castiel stood and undid the chain, gently pulling it away from him and dropping it onto the floor carelessly.

"Is that better?" He returned his hand to his hair, looking all kinds of gentle. Dean nodded, tugging at his throbbing wrists weakly. "Are you sure, Dean? Can you continue?"

"Little more," Dean muttered. "Please- I just..."

"Okay," Castiel leaned closer, kissing him softly on the lips. "I won't use this flogger though." Dean nodded, watching him pick it up and frowning.

"Cas," he said, eyes widening slightly at the red mark on Castiel's forearm. "What happened?"

Castiel frowned and followed his eyes to his arm, wincing and pulling it back. "Nothing," he said quickly. "I was about to hit you again when you said yellow so I put my arm in front of the flogger."

"Why... would you..."

"You said yellow. You used a safeword, Dean. I wasn't going to hit you again, even if I'd already moved to do so," Castiel kissed his forehead then stood with the flogger in hand. He set it on the table and picked up the suede flogger, twirling it in his hands then setting it back down.

He walked back to Dean, crouching and pressing the tip of his finger against his palm. Dean groaned and weakly clenched his hand around it, earning a sharp stare from Castiel. He smiled, squeezing harder and urging Castiel to move away by letting go and batting his finger away. Castiel stood and stepped behind him, one finger pressing against his stinging backside, dragging over the reddened flesh.

"I'll use my hand," he said, the vibrator turning on to the lowest setting. Dean moaned and closed his eyes, letting his head hang. Castiel slapped him hard, and Dean jerked into the horse, forcing himself to remain still and breath.

Castiel's hand was much calmer than the flogger, and Dean found himself melting into the methodical slaps that landed across his ass and thighs. Predictable and soothing, allowing his mind to wander away and everything inside of him to relax. Castiel hit his left ass cheek then his right ass cheek, followed by a slap to the crease connecting his right cheek and right thigh, and a similar one to the other side; then two hits along his left thigh then two more on his right, and then he repeated it all from the beginning.

His mind drifted off to nothing, eyes falling shut. He didn't even care about the vibrator buzzing inside of him, pressed against his prostate. All he cared about was the slaps to his ass and the floating sensation he was getting. Castiel stopped hitting him after a while, the vibrator turning off and being eased out of him gently.

Dean groaned and clenched his ass around nothing, but didn't move more than that. Castiel undid the cuffs on his ankles then knelt in front of him and undid the ones on his wrists. "Dean?" He said softly, fingers slipping under his chin and lifting his head. "You with me?"

"Mgh," Dean blinked his eyes open, smiling sloppily at Castiel and giggling. "Mhm," he licked his lips, another small laugh escaping him.

"Okay," Castiel muttered, lips twitching. "I'm going to help you up now, okay?" He nodded, head dropping the moment Castiel's fingers let go of his chin. Castiel stepped behind him and leaned over, hand slipping under his chest and under his right hip. He pulled him up, a sticky noise following it as Dean was pulled off the leather that had clung to his flesh; the noise made Dean giggle again.

Dean fell into Castiel, turning around and burying his face in the man's somewhat sweaty skin. "Cath," he laughed, nuzzling his face into Castiel's collarbone. Castiel huffed and ran a hand through Dean's sweaty hair, another rubbing his lower back gently, over the place the chain had hurt him.

"Come on, sweetheart," Castiel said, stepping back and trying to move Dean with him. Dean stumbled into his chest, laughing again when Castiel made a slightly surprised noise. "Can you walk?"

"Nuh," Dean threw his arms around Castiel's neck, biting his clavicle lightly and sucking on the flesh. Castiel made another noise, different, and pushed him back a little. "Hey-" He pressed a finger to Dean's lips, shaking his head.

"Count to three."

Dean squinted, curious. "Un, deux, trois," he said quickly with a grin. Castiel raised a brow and he pouted and did it again slower, "One. Two. Three." The moment he said three, Castiel's arm went under his knees and another around his shoulders. Dean squeaked and clung to him, eyes wide. "St-strong," he laughed.

Castiel blinked and nodded, stepping to the little set of stairs for the stage. He walked down them and slipped past people, heading for the backrooms. Dean noticed Cain watching him and laughed, burying his face in Castiel's neck and kiss the side. He knew Cain saw the whole thing and sighed, pleased.

Fuck that man. He had Castiel. Sure, Cain had been a great Dom and had taught him a lot of things but Castiel was better; he was.

Dean was set on his feet once they entered the room and lightly pushed down to lay on his stomach on the bed. Castiel shut the door and rummaged around the room for a bit, setting things on the nightstand.

Something cold and soft rubbed lightly over his ass, making him squirm and make a sibilant sound. A cold gel rubbed over his ass next and he tensed, wondering if it would sting like last time. It didn't. But after a few second of kind of painful rubbing, his ass started to get a little numb. Dean relaxed fully then, yawning a little and rubbing his feet together.

"Come on," Castiel said, washing his hands quickly and drying them. He pulled the sheets back on the bed and sat down with his back to the headboard, gesturing Dean to crawl over to him and lay between his legs. Dean whined and forced himself to get up to his knees and hands and shuffle between his legs.

Castiel wrapped his arms around him when he did and kissed his forehead, as if to say he was good for doing that. Dean smiled and rubbed his cheek against Castiel's chest, yawning again. Castiel tucked the blanket around them, knees keeping the sheets from touching Dean's ass, and tucked some of the blanket under Dean's feet so he could rub them together and get warmer.

Finally, he sat back and pressed a straw to Dean's lips, urging him to open them. Dean latched onto the end of the straw, sucking lightly and happily drinking the apple juice. Castiel fed him a piece of chocolate next, and he crunched on that until it was small enough for him to swallow. Castiel held another out to him, but he didn't take the whole thing into his mouth, he let it melt between Castiel's thumb and index while he bit off little pieces.

When he ate it all, he licked at Castiel's fingertips, sucking on them lightly. He kept his thumb in his mouth, refusing to let it go even when his index tapped at his nose. Dean closed his eyes and sucked on Castiel's chocolate tasting thumb, drained and sore but content as he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: Chains. Horse Spanking Bench. Cock Cage. Block Standing(?) - no idea what it's called. Pet names. Spanking. Flogging. Cuffs. Safeword use. Vibrator. Finger Squeeze Check. Subspace. Aftercare.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not satisfied with this chapter but here you go~ :)
> 
> Also, I was thinking a lot about what a reader commented a couple chapters ago, about Castiel and Dean's developing bond and the possessive notes I keep dropping in, and my response to them. I changed my mind. By using this chapter, I'm going to be exiting the club scene and moving it to a different setting. There will probably be one or two more chapters in the club but then it'll move somewhere else. We might come back to it, of course, but I'm gonna try something else. I'd like to read your thoughts on this, because I can always just not change it. :)
> 
> Unbetaed, unread, forgive me and enjoy! <3

**Castiel**

Castiel watched as a young man tied up a pretty woman around his age, making intricate knots over her body. He squinted as he watched the woman relax, her eyes falling shut. It was interesting to watch the way he tightened knots over her body, mesmerizing even.

"Cas," he tilted his head, eyes moving away from them to stare at Dean. He smiled at his disgruntled face, eyes dropping down to Dean's jeans before returning to his face.

"Hello, Dean," he said, watching as Dean sat on the empty stool beside him. "How are you?"

"Can you please take it off?" Dean clenched and unclenched his hands, squirming  and pressing his legs together. "Please, Cas."

"I can't don't that," Castiel barely held in a grin, and turned to look back at the couple from earlier. "We have to talk first."

"About what? There's nothing to talk about. Come on, Cas," Dean scooted his stool closer, and as Castiel turned to stare at him again, he noted his wide, desperate eyes. "I'm dying here, man."

"You're not dying, Dean," he huffed. Castiel shifted and dug into his pocket, pulling out his keys and holding them out to Dean. He dropped them into his hands when he lifted them palm up and turned himself to face Dean. "We have to talk about your attitude."

"My _attitude_?" Dean dropped his hands, clenching the keys with a deep frown. He looked offended. "There's nothing wrong with my attitude."

"'Now or never again.'" Castiel quoted, watching Dean's face and knowing the moment he realized the problem. "I don't appreciate that, Dean."

"You didn't care when I said it so why now?"

"I did care," he said, looking away. "It made me angry. The only reason I agree to scene with you after you said it was because I like you, Dean, you're a good sub; but I don't want to do that anymore."

"You don't wanna scene with me anymore?" Dean leaned back and away from him.

"That's not it exactly. I don't want to scene with you anymore if you're going to continue giving me ultimatums. I don't like being forced into something, Dean, especially not something as delicate as a scene." He sighed and tilted his head back to stare farther into the crowd of people. "I just want to tell you that if you ever give me an ultimatum again," he turned to Dean and locked eyes with him. "I will walk away, and I will never scene with you again."

Dean blinked and looked down, playing with the keys. "I'm sorry." He sounded genuine as he said this, his shoulders partly slumped. "I didn't mean to make you angry. I just... I just wanted to scene."

"I know you are," Castiel reached forward and took the keys from Dean, shifting through the few keys until he found the correct one. "Do you still have your key?"

Dean swallowed, licking his lips and staring at him for a moment before nodding. He dug into his shirt and pulled out the other key, letting it rest on his shirt. "If you wish to scene with me, Dean, today and now, please remove your clothes and set them on the table. If you don't want to then remain clothed. If you decide to be my sub then do not touch the cage, you may only remove it if I directly tell you to or you decide you don't want me."

Castiel didn't want to stick around to watch Dean make his decision, so he stood and he walked away, pocketing his keys as he did. He made his way through the crowd to stage seven where there were a bunch of different items he could use on Dean, or any other sub if Dean didn't want to scene with him; no, he wouldn't use them on another, just Dean if he was there.

He stood in front of the table, looking over all the items and trying to decide how he wanted the scene tonight to play out. He didn't feel like any impact play, so that ruled out the paddles and floggers and such; he might spank Dean a little but that was all he felt.

Castiel picked up a silver cock ring, staring at the gleaming metal for a moment. He pocketed it and then picked up a thick black vibrator and the remote that went with it. He turned it onto the lowest setting and pursed his lips as it buzzed in his hands. It would do well. He turned it off and pocketed the remote but held onto the vibrator.

He picked up two wrist cuffs and a bottle of lube and decided that would work for now. Castiel turned and headed down the stage, walking back through the crowd to the bar. He noticed the man from last week, the guy from stage six but didn't know his name.

He was with the sub from last week as well, but they weren't doing anything more than chatting with other people. Castiel ignored him and looked at the bar, where he'd left Dean, wondering how to feel if he wasn't there. Disappointment was allowed. He wandered what else was acceptable.

Castiel felt a flutter in his belly when he saw Dean standing between their two stools, naked and looking nervous as people watched him. The cage was firmly locked between his legs and his clothes were on the bar top, the key still hanging around his neck. Castiel set the items he picked on the table, removing the remote and ring from his pocket.

He sat down and turned to Dean, looking down at his cock, watching it twitch as it struggled to harden in the steel cage. "Good," he pulled Dean between his legs, brushing his lips across Dean's rough cheek. "May I have your key?" Dean leaned back and pulled the chain up and over his head, holding it out to him.

Castiel took it and reached down, grasping Dean's cock and rubbing his thumb over the leaking head. Dean bucked forward, tensing slightly, and made a soft noise that couldn't be considered a moan but was close. Castiel stuck the key in the small lock and turned it, watching it pop open. He turned the lock and pulled it off, setting the key and lock on the bar top.

Castiel carefully opened the cage, listening to Dean hiss softly as his no doubt throbbing cock was released from the tight cage. He didn't touch Dean's cock more than he had to, setting the cage on the table to be cleaned later and picking up the cock ring. He eased it onto Dean's dick, smiling slightly when he made another noise, this time disappointed.

He picked up the bottle of lube and squirted out a dollop, rubbing it in his hand to warm it up before wrapping his hand around Dean's cock and stroking him slowly. Dean arched and moaned, dropping his head forward onto Castiel's shoulder, hands reaching out to clutch his rumpled blazer tightly. "Cas-" he breathed, biting his blazer and pulling.

Castiel leaned back and nudged his nose against Dean's cheek, brushing his lips over his jaw. "You like that, hmm?" Dean groaned in response, fucking into his hand desperately. "Good boy." He let go of Dean's cock, pressing his lips together to hold in a small laugh when Dean made the most adorable whine.

He pulled Dean in closer, rubbing his ass and squeezing his cheeks lightly, spreading them and letting go. Dean rubbed his cock against his shirt, seeking friction on his cock and finding it in the smooth fabric of Castiel's shirt and his belt. "Please let me come, sir," Dean whispered, breath loud in his ear.

"No, not yet," Castiel picked up the bottle of lube and squirted some out, rubbing his fingers together. He tossed the bottle back onto the table and used his dry hand to pull Dean's ass cheeks apart. He rubbed his middle finger over Dean's rim, teasing him. Dean made a pitiful noise, rocking back onto his fingers and squirming. "I have a question for you."

"What?"

"The Dom from last week. What's his name?" Dean tensed and reached back, grabbing his forearm and stopping his movement. He leaned back and stared at him, looking closed off.

"Why are you asking now?" Dean asked slowly, eyes narrowing. "Is he... is he here? Did you see him?"

"Yes, I did," Castiel pulled Dean's hand off his arm and rubbed his fingers over Dean's hole again. "You don't have to answer me, Dean, but I'm curious."

"Cain," Dean said, looking back at the crowd with a searching gaze. "His name is Cain."

"Cain," Castiel looked over Dean's shoulder, finding Cain at the very edge of the crowd, watching them with a dark gaze, his sub talking to a naked female.

"Cain Enoch," Dean looked back at him, swallowing thickly. Dean saw him at the edge too, he must have. Castiel pulled Dean back in close and leaned forward, brushing their lips together and never breaking eye contact.

"Do you still like him?" He asked as he pushed a finger into Dean, slow and easy, working it in and out until he could slide the finger within him easily. Dean didn't verbally reply, but he did look a little lost. He shook his head after a moment, clenching around Castiel's finger and tucking his face in his neck.

"I don't," Dean said. "But it's hard seeing him. He didn't want me anymore and... I dunno."

"I'm sorry," he muttered, rubbing another finger over Dean's rim as he fucked the first finger in and out of Dean's ass. "May I ask why?"

"I'll tell you later," Dean told him quietly, arms wrapping around him and squeezing tightly. Dean bit his neck lightly, grinding his cock against Castiel's thigh. He pushed his second finger into Dean, listening to him moan softly.

"Okay," he kissed Dean's shoulder, biting his skin hard and sucking softly. He worked his fingers in and out of Dean, scissoring them and stretching him the best he could at this angle. He didn't bother looking for Dean's prostate, or giving him much pleasure, he would be getting more than enough of that in just a moment.

Castiel pushed another finger in him, giving him a moment to adjust before fucking them in and out slowly, working him open and loose around his fingers. "Turn around for me," Castiel said, pulling his fingers out of Dean. He picked up the dildo and slicked it up with lube, pushing Dean forward a little so he was bent over.

He spread Dean's ass cheeks and rubbed the head of the vibrator over his rim, pushing it forward and into him. Dean moaned, spreading his legs and digging his toes into the hard ground. Castiel didn't stop until the vibrator was inside of him fully, then he pulled Dean up straight and made him cross his arms over his lower back.

Castiel attached the cuffs and hooked them together so he couldn't move his arms, then he turned him around. He picked up the remote and flicked it onto the lowest setting, watching Dean's eyes widen and his cock leak out a drop of precum. Dean made a deep noise, his thighs trembling, and swallowed heavily, breathing harder.

He wrapped his hand around Dean's cock, stroking slowly and tightly, and set the remote down. "Such a good boy," he said softly, digging his thumb into the slit at the head of Dean's cock. Dean whimpered and trembled, reaching forward and gripping his pants, leaning heavily onto his legs to steady himself. "All mine."

"Mgh," Dean's lips parted, his eyes wide with pleasure and need, and fucked into his hand desperately.

"That's right, isn't it? You're all mine." Castiel blinked at Dean's soft moan in response to his words. "Tell me, Dean. You're not Cain's, are you?" Dean's brows furrowed but he shook his head negatively. "Only mine. Am I right?" He let go of Dean's cock, smiling when he whined. "Or wrong?"

"Yours, yours," Dean gasped, panting softly. "Just yours. I swear. Please, sir-"

Castiel hummed and started stroking him again, smearing each drop of precum that appeared at the tip of his cock. "Good boy," he muttered, licking his lips.

"Please-"

"Please, what?"

"Can... can I really be yours?" Dean grabbed his wrist, stopping him from stroking his cock. He looked flustered but serious. "I like... it..."

"I was-" Dean seemed to immediately realize what he was saying and looked embarrassed, letting go of his wrist and looking away. "Do you really want to be mine?" Castiel cupped Dean's jaw, forcing him to face him. "Hey-"

"Yes," Dean's face turned red, and he looked down, like he was unable to meet Castiel's eyes. He kissed him, gentle and sweet, and content. Castiel eased the cock ring off of him, deciding he didn't want it anymore, and tossed it onto the table.

"All mine," Castiel replied, starting to stroke Dean slowly again. He kissed over his jaw and down his neck, sucking hard on his skin and leaving dark marks. He picked up the remote and turned it up higher, earning a curse and a groan from Dean. "Tell me when you're close."

Dean nodded and closed his eyes, fucking into his hand and probably clenching around the vibrator. Castiel flicked it up higher, listening to him whine and watching him stutter in his thrusts, looking shaky. He was beautiful. "Cas- Cas," he gasped, panting. "It's right- oh fuck," Dean looked desperate, eyes squeezed shut tightly.

"Tell me."

"You'll just stop," Dean growled, opening his eyes. "Please don't stop."

"Shh," Castiel nipped at his bottom lip, smiling at Dean's frustrated expression. "Just once, I promise."

"Noo," Dean shook his head, breathing harder and harder.

"If you don't tell me, I'll spank you," Castiel warned, tightening his grip on Dean's cock and flicking the remote to another higher setting. Dean tensed and his hips stuttered, eyes wide as they looked at him. He opened his mouth to say something but the words got lost as he moaned.

Castiel gripped the base of his cock, squeezing tightly and stopping his semen from shooting out the tip of his cock. "Bad boy," he said, letting Dean calm down before letting go and spinning him around. He made him bend over the other stool and delivered several hard, sharp smacks to Dean's ass. "What did I tell you?"

"I tried-" Dean whimpered, wiggling his ass.

"Excuses," he clucked his tongue, smacking Dean hard enough to leave a red print of his hand. "I don't like excuses, boy."

"I'm sorry, sir," Dean gasped at each hit Castiel gave, his legs shaking. Castiel stood and stepped to the side, slipping an arm under Dean's body and holding his waist tightly.

"Push the vibrator out," he said, ignoring Dean's confused glance as he complied. He waited until the vibrator was approximately halfway out of his asshole, still buzzing strong, before slapping his hand down on the end and forcing it back inside of Dean with a sharp smack. Dean cried out loudly, tensing and arching his back. "Again."

Dean complied, trembling even more. He smacked his hand down again, listening to Dean let out a sharp cry once more. Dean's legs basically gave out under him, the only thing keeping him up right now Castiel's arm. "Cas," he sobbed.

"Again," he said, turning the vibrator up to full power. Dean whined and did so, letting out a wail as Castiel forced it back inside of him, striking his prostate in the process it seemed. "Think you can come from this?"

"Y-" Dean breathed for a moment. "I-I don't know. I can- I can try?"

"Lean over the stool," he moved him forward and pulled his arm from under him, flexing his fingers. Dean was actually quite hard to support with one arm. "Good, stay there," he said as Dean slumped over it, stomach pressed into the hard wood. "Push it out."

Dean groaned and did so, his hands shaking. Castiel slapped his hand down, palm stinging slightly from how hard he struck Dean. Dean arched and cried out again, hips jerking into the stool. "More, more," he stammered, sounding rough.

Dean's ass muscled seemed to have problems keeping the vibrator in now, as it was just slipping out easily. Castiel grinned and smacked him again, and again... and again. He varied how hard he hit as he did it over and over until Dean was nearly screaming with a mix of pain and pleasure, shaking like a leaf. "Come on, baby boy," he cooed, striking down again. "Come for me."

It seemed that was all it took because the next thing he knew, Dean was crying and coming with a scream. He turned the vibrator off, pulling it out and setting it on the bar top. He removed the cuffs and tossed them on top of Dean's clothes, helping the man to his feet and holding him.

Dean gripped him with shaking arms, unsteady on his legs. "Cas," he whimpered. "That was..."

"Intense? Are you okay?" Castiel rubbed his back gently. Dean was taller than him but somehow he managed to bury his face in Castiel's collarbone, still clutching him tightly. "Hey, look at me. Please."

Dean lifted his head, blinking away tears, and smiled at him slightly. "That was new," he muttered, clearing his throat. "I liked it."

"Good," he muttered, noting Dean's slightly dazed eyes. "Come, we'll lay down." He ignored Dean's groan of protest and held him close as they walked to the backrooms. He locked eyes with Hannah, gesturing his head to the bar, and smiling a thank you when she nodded. Hannah would clean up and bring Dean's clothes to room seven later, when Castiel told her it was alright to come in. 

He noted the way Cain watched them from the corner of his eye, sharp and curious. Interesting. He was ignoring his current sub for an old one. That was rude. They turned the corner and walked to the room seven door, Castiel digging into his pocket for his keys and unlocking it, pushing it open.

Dean moved away from him, stumbling slightly as he entered the room. He walked to the bed and dropped onto the middle, face first. Castiel huffed and closed the door, walking over to the fridge and getting two bottles of water, a juice box, a thin bar of chocolate and a bowl with sliced pear and banana.

He set them on the nightstand and pulled the sheets back, toeing his shoes off at the same time. He fixed the pillows and sat down, leaning against the headboard. Dean looked up at him and groaned, dropping his head back down onto the sheets. He pushed himself up weakly and crawled over to him, burrowing himself between Castiel's legs and into his chest.

"Are you okay, swe-Dean?" Calling him sweetheart out of a scene was weird, wasn't it? Castiel frowned and picked up the juice box, removing the straw from the side and opening it, sticking the end in the hole at the top of the box.

"Mhmm," Dean squirmed a little then relaxed. Castiel held the box out to him, letting him take hold of it while pulled the covers over both of them, tucking them close. Dean rubbed his feet together under the blankets, sucking on the straw and swallowing juice while at the same time, rubbing his cheek over Castiel's blazer.

"Can you sit up for a second?" He asked, listening to Dean groan again before pushing himself up with a glare. He smiled and sat forward, pulling his blazer off and tossing it onto the other side of the bed, loosening his tie and pulling it off and dropping it over the blazer. He sat back, undoing his cufflinks and pocketing the angel wings before folding the cuffs to his elbows.

Dean watched him with curious eyes, blinking occasionally. He was still sucking on the straw even though nothing was moving through it. He seemed to realize it the same time Castiel did, and lowered his hands and the box. He lay against Castiel again, setting the box on the nightstand.

Castiel set his hand on Dean's hair, rubbing his scalp lightly, playing with his soft hair. "How do you feel?" He asked, picking up the bar of chocolate and opening it with his free hand and teeth. He broke off two pieces, setting the rest on the table, and held them out to Dean.

Dean bit off the first piece, shrugging as an answer to him. He chewed quietly, rubbing his face over his shirt. "Fine, I guess?" Dean said after he swallowed the piece of chocolate. "I'm fine."

"Okay," he pressed a kiss to Dean's head, staying there with his nose buried in Dean's hair. Dean nibbled on the second piece of chocolate, yawning slightly. "Sleep. I'll wake you in a couple hours."

"Mfgh," Dean bit the chocolate and licked his fingers clean, then cuddled in closer and relaxed. "I like you too, Cas," he slurred the words slightly, and then he fell asleep right after, his breaths evening and his face relaxing. Castiel kissed his head again, pleased, and leaned back, pulling his phone out of his pocket and sending Hannah a message to come bring Dean's clothes. He pulled up solitaire after getting her response and he rubbed Dean's scalp as he played, listening to his quiet noises with a smile.

***

Castiel shifted about an hour later, getting a little uncomfortable because his leg was asleep. He carefully moved Dean and slipped out from under him, laying him down on the pillows. He'd hopefully be back before he woke up. He shook his leg, flexing his toes and twisting his ankle around. He slipped out of the room without bothering with his shoes, walking with socked feet across the hard floor to the bar.

The club was still going strong past midnight, people still scening and talking and doing whatever they did. Castiel sighed and sat down on the stool from earlier, everything having been cleaned after he and Dean had left.

Benny appeared in front of him with a grin, holding an empty glass and a bottle of whisky. He poured him out some and slid it towards him, putting the bottle down and leaning on the bar top. "Hey," he said finally.

"Hello, Benny," he smiled in return, taking a sip from his glass. "Lots of drinkers tonight?"

"Yeah," Benny looked back down the bar, frowning. "It's Friday, though. I just hope they're not scening."

"Hopefully," Castiel licked his lips and set his glass down, looking at the amber liquid. "How's Andrea and the kids?"

"Great. Our oldest just joined her first soccer team."

"Good, good," Castiel hummed, looking to the side as Cain appeared. Why was he still here? The man locked eyes with him and started walking towards him, taking the stool beside him.

"Grants, please," he said in a deep voice. They both watched as Benny got a glass and a bottle of Grants, pouring out two fingers worth before stepping away with one last smile at Castiel, and walking down the bar. "My name is Cain. And you are?" He held his hand out for a shake, smiling lightly.

"James," he said, shaking his hands. "Nice to meet you, Cain."

"How long have you and Dean been together?" Cain asked, looking down at his glass.

"A while," Castiel said. "Why do you ask?"

"I used to be his Dom," Cain smirked, taking a sip from his glass. "Just wanted to warn you about him. He's not a good kid."

"He's not a kid at all," Castiel narrowed his eyes. "I don't need any warnings, thank you."

"You should stay away from him, James," Cain turned and stared at him, eyes dark. "We don't want a scrawny CEO like you getting hurt, do we?"

Ah. Cain looked into him. Castiel laughed and stood, throwing back the rest of his drink. "Thank you for your concern, Mr. Enoch," he leaned closer. "But I can take care of myself." He stepped back and turned to leave.

"I'm pretty sure Dean doesn't know what you do," Cain said. "I'll tell him if you don't stay away."

"Are you threatening me?" Castiel asked, stopping and turning with a frown. "That's interesting. You may try, Mr. Enoch, but I'm certain he won't listen to you."

"You sure about that?" Cain gestured his head behind Castiel, a grin appearing. "Thanks for the chat, James. Have a nice night." Cain stood and took his glass with him as he walked away, looking entirely too pleased.

Castiel sighed and turned to go, freezing. That's why he gestured his head. That fucker. "How much of that did you hear?" Dean smiled emptily, looking down at his feet.

"I thought you left then I saw your things were still there so I figured you left to get a drink and came to find you," Dean huffed. "I heard everything since you told him your name. Which makes me think, by the way."

"About?"

"James is a pretty common name, yeah, but what are the chances that I suddenly know two?" Dean grinned, but it had no life. "You're my boss, aren't you, Cas?" Fuck.

"I can explain," he swallowed. He felt a twist of panic in his belly, watching Dean's face. He looked so betrayed and it hurt to see knowing that it was because of him. "Dean, I'm- I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you."

"You could have," Dean pulled his jacket on, clearing his throat and looking around. "There was nothing stopping you." He stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet and wiggling his nose, sniffing. "It's cool, it's cool. I'm gonna go though."

"Dean," Castiel watched as he stepped closer, his heart pattering in his chest. "I'm sorry, Dean. I-"

"Shut up, Cas," Dean shot him a glare. "Dammit. I need to go." He rubbed his eyes, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not a bad person, just so you know, and Cain won't do shit. He's probably never gonna come back here too, satisfied he ruined something for me again. Fucking asshole."

"Dean," he didn't know what he could say. Did Dean never want to see him again? Was he ever going to come back? What if he quit? Castiel bit his cheek, watching Dean shuffle his feet and sigh. He stepped closer, wanting to touch Dean, but the man held up a hand and he froze.

"I need to think, Cas," Dean blinked a few times, looking blank. "I'll see you." That didn't mean goodbye, did it?

"Dean, please," he said thickly. Dean ignored him, turning and walking away, looking tense and tight. "Fuck." He looked around the club and immediately spotted Cain and his sub, standing and watching him. He felt a rush of anger, and turned, walking over to where Tiny stood watching the crowd. "Come with me." Tiny looked at him and nodded, immediately following after him. He locked eyes with Cain but he spoke to Tiny, "Kick those two men out. I never want them in here again."

"Blacklist them from all the clubs, sir?" Tiny asked, already gesturing over two other men.

"Yes."

"Of course, sir," Tiny nodded and walked towards them, standing straighter. Cain didn't put up a fight, but his sub seemed confused and angry as the security guards directed them out. Cain shot him a glare though, and he smiled in return. Maybe it was a little mean to blacklist them from all the clubs but he didn't truly care right now.

He walked up to the bar and sat down, gesturing Benny over. "Gimme a bottle of Jack," he muttered, ignoring Benny's concerned look as he complied. He took the bottle and stood, looking down at his socked feet and sighing. He turned and walked towards room seven, wondering how drunk he could get in the next five minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: Spanking. Vibrator. Cock ring. Orgasm delay/denial. Cuffs. Cock cage. Minimal aftercare.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah. The response last chapter was WOAH. I was so overwhelmed omg. Ily all and I'll respond to all of your comments soon. <3
> 
> I told myself a long while ago that this story would not have a chapter without a scene and/or sexual act so... sorry (it was kind of inappropriate, considering)
> 
> Unbetaed, unread, forgive me and enjoy! <3

Dean sat on his bed, hair and body damp from his shower. He stared at the wall across the room, mind empty and yet racing. His head pounded and his body ached even though he'd done absolutely nothing for the past week but sleep and avoid everyone at work. He felt like absolute shit. And he knew exactly why.

Sub drop.

He'd come home last week and promptly crashed into bed, only to wake up two hours later and throw up and cry for an hour straight. Funny, right? He snorted, licking his lips and swallowing, looking around his nigh empty room blankly. Dean felt a twinge of desperation within his body, wanting to dress in a pair of jeans and a shirt and head down to The Cage and find someone to beat him into a bloody, sobbing mess.

But at the same time, he wanted to dress in jeans and a shirt and head to the club and find someone to tenderly take him apart, out of his mind and into the depths of his subconscious. He wanted gentle hands and sweet kisses, he wanted the warmth of pleasure and not the cold of pain. He didn't want to feel the betrayal from Castiel, he didn't want to feel the hopelessness, the imaginary aches in his body, or the pounding in his head, the onslaught of hateful thoughts his mind seemed to exude.

Dean blinked his burning eyes, looking down at his hands. He'd started picking at the edges of his nails, biting at the hard skin and ripping it off. A physical reaction to the anxiety he felt. He dropped back onto the bed, bouncing slightly, turning over onto his side and curling his legs closer to his chest, arms laying in front of his body and on the bed, fingers picking at the fabric of his comforter.

He wanted Cas.

Aw, hell.

***

Dean looked around the club, staring at the couples curled together in recovery sections or playing. He looked down at his feet and carefully made his way through the couples, heading for the empty bar where Benny stood cleaning glasses. Dean sat in the dark corner of the bar, offering Benny's curious gaze a smile, turning away before the man could take it as an invitation to come over.

He wondered if Castiel was here tonight. He wanted to see him. But he didn't want to talk to him. He wasn't ready for that. He didn't think he could handle it.

There was no music playing tonight, letting the sound of leather on skin and cries fill the air. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the bar top, shoulder slumping. This position was uncomfortable but he could handle it for a few minutes. 

"Dean."

He opened his eyes and found himself staring up at the ceiling. His neck was hurting from the position so he lifted it and stared ahead of himself. What did he say? What did he do? "Why?" He wished he had spoken above a whisper but he couldn't bring himself to.

"I was greedy," Castiel said, shifting on the stool beside him. "I wanted you and I didn't want you to leave me."

"I wouldn't have," he protested.

"You would have, Dean," Castiel muttered, sighing. "You would have left me."

"How long?"

"How long?" he repeated after Dean.

"How long did you know?" Dean finally turned to look at him, swallowing thickly at the scruffy, grim face that greeted him. Even with a bleak expression, Castiel was strikingly handsome.

Castiel lowered his eyes. "Do you remember that day that I asked you for your full name? After you mentioned Adler?"

"Vaguely," he did remember it, clearly.

"I didn't know for sure but I suspected," Castiel shrugged. "You fell asleep and I searched for you in the company files. I found you and it confirmed my thoughts on who you were."

"Are you going to fire me?" Dean asked, looking away when Castiel lifted his head.

"God, Dean. No. I would never do that," Castiel sounded shocked. "Not just because I-I like you, because it's not right. We have, or had - I guess, a relationship but that doesn't mean I get to fire you when something happens. That's an abuse of power and I would never do that. I would never, Dean."

"Okay," he shrugged in reply. "I'm mad at you, Cas. I'm so mad you didn't tell me but I don't- I don't want this to be the end. I just-" Dean leaned forward, wincing slightly as a throb appeared across his back. He turned his chair and bumped knees with Castiel. He swallowed and wrung his hands, nervous. "I just... I-"

"Hey," Castiel hesitated, hands hovering over Dean's for a brief second, before wrapping over them. Dean tensed at the contact then made a noise in the back of his throat, fingers trembling. He wanted those hands, and further, those arms, to wrap around him and hold him close. "Tell me." It sounded like a command and yet Dean knew it wasn't one. "Please."

One hand lifted away and cupped Dean's cheek, lifting his head. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face into that hand, heartbeat remaining the same speed but thumping harder in his chest. "I just want you, Cas. I want you and it's scary. I want you so much. I want to be with you and- and... Dammit. Even when I'm mad at you, I want you. Sitting here, right now, with your hands on me..." Dean shook his head ever so carefully, not wanting Castiel to move his hand away. " _I want you._ "

"Hey, don't cry," Dean blinked, eyes blurry. Castiel wiped away a few stray tears, standing and stepping between Dean's slightly spread legs. He wrapped his arms around him, one around the middle of his back and the other around his shoulders, a hand sliding into his hair and tucking Dean's face into Castiel's neck. "Don't cry, sweetie."

Dean realized he was making noises but he couldn't stop. He clung to Castiel's jacket, holding him tight and close, feeling small tears slip from his eyes. Castiel kissed the side of his head, rocking side to side slightly. He was making shushing noises, his hands rubbing over Dean gently. "Not mad," he whimpered. "I lied. I'm not- not mad."

"Shh," Castiel tilted his head back, kissing a tear on Dean's cheek. "It's okay. I know."

"'m's'rry," he muttered, nuzzling his face into Castiel's clothing.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Castiel bumped his nose against Dean's cheek. " _I'm_ sorry, Dean. _I'm_ the one who did wrong. Not you." Castiel gently pulled him to his feet, holding him tight and guiding him away from the bar. "Come back to my room with me?" He nodded and let Castiel lead him away from the people and to the safety of room seven.

He numbly curled up in Castiel's arms, aware that he was trembling and still crying silently but finding himself unable to stop either. Castiel's chest was wet under his cheek but the man didn't say anything about it, just soothingly rubbed his scalp and back, murmuring words Dean was mentally unable to comprehend at the moment and pressing kisses to his face.

He was warm under the covers, safe in Castiel's arms. He wasn't okay. He wasn't but he would be. Soon. Cas was here. Cas fixed everything. He always fixed everything.

***

Dean squirmed and groaned, opening his eyes with a little difficulty, yawning heavily and sitting up slowly. Where the hell was he? Oh, right. He turned his head and spotted Cas, curled towards Dean and sleepily silently, chest moving up and down with even breaths, face relaxed. He was still at The Cage.

Dean felt a rush of embarrassment and turned his head away, face warm. He kicked the covers off and sat up slowly, legs moving over the side of the bed. He pushed himself up to his feet, wincing and stretching with another yawn. He should really leave.

He found his shoes on the floor by the table, belt folded and resting on the wooden surface, and his jacket resting over the back of one of the chairs. Dean remembered being spanked over Cas's knees on this chair. His cock gave an interested twitch at the memory.

"Dean?"

Fuck.

Dean swallowed and turned from where he'd bent to pick up his shoes, locking eyes with a sleepy Cas. His hair was a worse mess than usual and it made Dean's lips twitch. "Yeah. Hi."

"Are you leaving?" Cas asked, sitting up with a deep frown. Dean shrugged in response, putting his shoes back down on the floor and standing up straight. He shuffled his feet nervously, wondering what to do now that he'd been caught. Maybe he should have been quieter.

Cas shifted off the bed, moving to the side and standing. He walked over to Dean, hesitating before reaching out and placing his hands on Dean's shoulders. "How are you feeling?" Cas said softly, stepping closer, close enough that Dean could feel his body heat.

He looked down at their feet, shrugging again. "Fine," he muttered. He'd been disgusting earlier. Crying all over Cas like a pathetic piece of shit. Cas slid his hands down Dean's arms, moving them to his hips and pulling Dean closer. He tilted his head up, pressing a kiss to Dean's forehead. "Cas..."

"Hush," he whispered, hands tugging tightly at the front of Dean's jeans. He watched Cas unbutton his pants and lower his zipper, pushing the denim down Dean's hips. His pants pooled around his socked feet, his boxers joining them. Cas shuffled back a couple inches and dropped to a knee, his hand wrapping around Dean's soft cock and squeezing lightly.

"Wha-" Dean bit his lip, his dick eagerly hardening as Cas stroked him dryly. He hadn't touched himself all week and now that he was paying attention to little Dean, he realized he was kind of horny.  Cas glanced up at him and offered a smile, warm, before leaning forward and licking the head of Dean's cock. A whimper spilled from his lips before he could stop it, which made Cas let out a dark little chuckle.

He let go of Dean's cock and leaned back. "Hand behind your back," he said, giving Dean a look at so did not make his cock visibly twitch. Nope. Dean obediently took hold of his left wrist with his right hand, biting his lip harder as Cas grinned at him, "Good boy."

_Aw, fuck,_ Dean thought, heart clenching in his chest. He wasn't a good boy. He didn't deserve that praise. He hadn't earned it. Not... not yet.

Cas licked at his cock again, sending little shivers of pleasure through Dean. He closed his eyes, breath catching in his throat as Cas wrapped his lips around Dean's cock head and sucked gently. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. His hips instinctively twitched forward before he could stop them and he opened his eyes as Cas pulled away.

"Sorry," he muttered weakly. Cas hummed and licked at the underside of Dean's cock, moving all around the girth and making him nice and wet. Dean rocked into his hand, legs trembling with the effort to stand. "Please, Cas-"

The man responded by swallowing him down to the base.

"Motherfucker-" Dean looked down, eyes wide, and locked gazes with Cas, whimpering at the hungry, amused look shining in those blue depths. Dean gripped his wrist tighter, breathing heavy. He was already so close and it was embarrassing. It had barely been three minutes! "Cas," he whined, hips twitching as Cas pulled back and sucked on the tip of his cock like it was a lollipop.

Cas pulled his mouth off him completely and stroked his cock slowly, fingers tight around him. "Are you close?" Cas asked him, voice soft. Dean looked away, face burning. "Come for me." He moaned and fucked into Castiel's hand faster, mewling at the little kitten licks Cas gave the tip of his cock.

His hands shot around his body and gripped Cas's hair, back arching slightly as he bucked, trembling and coming. He fucked Cas's hand, groaning softly. Dean dropped to his knees with a thud, falling into Cas and burying his face in the man's shoulder. He shivered at the aftershocks of pleasure and struggled to calm himself. Cas didn't move.

Dean sat back, blinking a few times before staring at Cas. Oh fuck. He felt his lips twitch at the shocked expression on Cas's face. He'd accidentally come on Cas's face. Dean shifted, feeling a bolt of possessiveness at the sight of Cas's marked face. He leaned back and pulled his hands away from the other man's body. "Uh, sorry?" He muttered, biting his lip to stop a laugh.

Cas glared at him, lifting his hand and grabbing Dean's head, pulling on the short hairs at the back of his head. "Clean me up," he growled, eyes dark. Dean's cock twitched. He leaned forward and obediently licked at the streaks of semen coating Cas's face. He shivered as he licked Cas's cheek, feeling his rough stubble on his tongue. "Good boy," Cas muttered when Dean pulled back, done.

His belly tightened with delight.

"Come to my house with me?" Cas murmured, soothing his scalp with gentle fingers. "Please, Dean."

"No," he pulled back, frowning at the disappointed expression on Cas's face. "I can't."

"Why not? Please, Dean, you need- you're not-" he floundered. "Please."

"I'm not what?" Dean shifted back, the warmth from earlier disappearing. Did he know? How? "There's nothing wrong with me."

Cas frowned and looked down at his legs, pulling his hand away and setting it in his lap. He looked back up after a moment, face open and inviting. "Just for tonight. Please. I need you."

"You... need me?" So many he didn't know. Dean touched Cas's hand. "What's wrong?"

"I don't feel very good," Cas said, looking thoughtful. "Please come home with me?"

"Sure, Cas," Dean squeezed Cas's hand. "I'll come with you. It's okay." Cas squinted at him, then pursed his lips and looked away. Dean furrowed his brows, was that guilt he saw? No, couldn't be. Cas had nothing to be guilty about. "Come on, let's go." Dean stood and pulled his pants up. He helped Cas to his feet after.

They dressed and Cas led them outside after, finding a cab and giving the guy an address. It was silent all the way to Cas's house but Dean didn't mind; he just kept a firm grip on Cas's hand the whole way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: Subdrop. [A] Blowjob (that really shouldn't have happened.) Facial.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is like... a record. Lmao
> 
> I think I forgot some 'warnings' - more like basic chapter tags tbh idk - so tell me if you see anything I should add. Also, this chapter is kind of weird so I apologize in advance. :*
> 
> Unbetaed, unread, forgive me and enjoy! <3

Dean yawned and stretched, looking around the room and frowning. He remembered that he had come to Cas's house and slept in his bed but it was still disorienting to wake up in an unfamiliar bed, no matter how soft and comfy it was. Dean looked around for Cas and stood when he didn't find him, shuffling into the bathroom and peeing quickly, washing his hands and using the extra toothbrush Cas had given him last night.

He rinsed his mouth with water then mouthwash when he finished brushing, rinsing again before putting everything away and wiping the counter. Dean padded out of the room, heading out Cas's bedroom door and into the hallway, down the stairs and into the kitchen where he smelled pancakes.

His mouth watered and his stomach growled softly as he got closer to the smell. "G'morning, Cas," he said, swallowing and looking at the strong muscles in Cas's bare back. The man turned slightly and smiled warmly at him, pointing the spatula in his right hand at the large island with four chairs.

"Good morning, Dean. Have a seat," Dean complied, sitting on one of the middle chairs that had a place setting in front of it. "The pancakes are done," Cas replied as he put the last two pancakes in the pan on the plate with the rest, turning the stove off and shuffling over to the island with the plate in his hands. "I made a few with chocolate chips. I wasn't sure if you liked them or not so I didn't make too many."

"I like them," Dean said, staring at the perfectly shaped pancakes with a frown. He looked back at the pan on the stove with several circles, squinting slightly, then back at the plate of pancakes. "You're a cheater!"

Cas winced and looked away, appearing embarrassed. "Don't judge me," he muttered, walking around the table and sitting beside Dean. "It's hard to make pancakes." Dean huffed dramatically, and took a few pancakes, pushing the plate closer to Cas and watching him take a few as well. Dean drowned his chocolate chip pancakes in syrup, using his fork to cut them up a little before shoving bites into his mouth.

"Fuck," he said around a mouthful. "These are good." He glanced at Cas, blinking a few times when he noticed the man staring at him. He swallowed. "What?" Cas shook his head and looked at his own plate of pancakes, cutting into them with his fork and taking a bite. Dean shrugged and ate another bite, chewing and swallowing before speaking. "How are you feeling?"

Cas froze mid-chew, gaze darting around the room for a second before finally landing on Dean. He opened his mouth and closed it several times, turning his eyes to stare at his plate. Dean lowered his fork, sitting back and watching Cas do the same. "Dean," Cas let out a breath, lowering his head slightly. "I'm fine."

"That's good," Dean said, shifting forward and picking his fork up again. "Thought somethin' happened," he huffed.

"No, Dean," Cas made a noise, frustrated and turned his body to face Dean. "I'm fine and... I was always fine." Dean set his fork down again and stared at Cas, noticing the same guilty look from last night. "I wanted, needed, you here because I don't think you are."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Dean," Castiel rubbed his eyes, licking his lips. He reached forward and took hold of Dean's hands, squeezing them lightly. "Do you know what sub drop is?" Dean raised a brow, looking him over for a second.

So he really did know.

"Yes," he said slowly.

And he had lied to Dean.

_Lied to him._

"Have you ever experienced it before?"

"Yeah, Cas, of course," Dean looked down at their hands. "Every sub has experienced sub drop in some kind of way."

"Last week, when you left the club, did you drop?" The question was spoken softly, gently. Cas's tone was soothing, almost coaxing. Dean felt shame, phantom pain in his body and disgust. "Dean?"

He shrugged, clenching his jaw. He pulled his hands away and stood, stepping back from Cas a few steps. "Yeah, I did," he admitted. "So what? It was over a week ago. I'm fine now." Cas turned to him, hands in his lap.

"Look me in the eye," Cas said after several silent seconds. "And tell me that you are over that drop. That you are one-hundred percent okay."

Dean rolled his eyes and looked up, ready to snap at Cas and tell him he was just peachy. He froze. Cas had this stern little look in his eyes and his eyebrow was partly raised, his whole face looking like he was daring Dean to lie, to tell him something other than a truthful answer. Dean swallowed dryly, staring Cas right in the eye and feeling his own eyes sting slightly, his heart beat faster and his stomach turn.

"No," he whimpered, eyes burning more and forcing him to close them. He turned his head away, crossing his arms over his chest and turning his body to the side. Dean felt a sting of comfort as Cas wrapped his arms around him, pulling him in close and pressing a little kiss to the side of his head.

"I'm sorry I lied to you, Dean. It wasn't right to trick you into coming here, I know that," Cas whispered, nose pressed to Dean's neck, lips moving against his skin. "I hope you can forgive me and let me take care of you. Please let me take care of you. I don't want to see you suffer." Dean uncrossed his arms, letting Cas pull him closer, and wrapped his arms around the other man's abdomen.

He nuzzled his face into Cas's bare shoulder, turning his head and staring at the stubble coating his neck. "I don't like lying, Cas," he said. "Please don't lie to me again." Cas nodded, muttering a promise to never do it again, and kissed his way up Dean's neck, over his cheek and head. "M'still hungry."

"Right," Cas chuckled, tugging Dean back to the island. "May I feed you?" Dean shrugged and nodded, raising a brow as Cas patted his lap. "Sit," he said, pulling Dean's plate closer. Dean stepped closer and wondered for a second how he was going to sit on Cas's lap without it being awkward. He didn't have to think long, because Cas was grabbing his hips and pulling him up and into his lap, Dean's right side to his chest, left arm wrapped around Dean's waist.

"Huh," Dean looked down at his legs then glanced at Cas's face. Cas smiled and cut a piece of Dean's pancakes, taking his arm away from Dean's back and cupping his left hand under the bite of pancake, holding it in front of Dean's lips. Dean opened his mouth and took the bite, chewing quietly as he watched Cas cut another.

He ate the next offered bite, chewing slowly because Cas was being extra slow. Or slow for Dean, anyways. Dean ate fast. Dean finished eating his pancakes before he noticed Cas's fingers were coated in syrup. He grabbed his left hand, leaning forward and bending his head, tongue sticking out of his mouth as he licked up the syrup, sucking noisily on Cas's fingers.

Dean glanced at Cas when he finished, smirking at the parted lips and wide eyes that greeted him. He shifted his leg, checking to see if he'd managed to get Cas hard, and freezing when he realized that no, he hadn't, because Cas was asexual and he didn't get hard at things like that.

"Disappointed?" Cas asked, leaning across Dean's legs as he ate a bite of his own forgotten pancakes. He'd noticed what Dean did. Aw, fuck.

"No, I just... okay, maybe a little," Dean looked away. "I kinda forgot though so, uh... sorry?"

Cas hummed in reply, chewing thoughtfully. "Would you like to make a deal?" Dean squinted suspiciously.

"What kind of deal?"

"One that involves a scene." Dean nodded slowly, urging Cas to continue. "If you stay here for the rest of the day and let me take care of you, I'll do anything you want tonight. Any kind of scene. As long as it's reasonable, of course."

"Anything, huh?" Dean wondered what they could do. He was definitely in the mood for anything with whips or paddles, maybe a light spanking. He actually didn't know what he wanted to do. He didn't want to know or pick what they did. "Can- can you pick? I don't, uh-"

"I could," Cas smirked at him, eating the last bite on his plate and leaning back to relax against the back of the chair as he chewed. "I will then. Tell me if you want to change your mind on that."

"Okay," Dean hesitantly lay his head on Cas's shoulder, smiling slightly as the man wrapped his arms tightly around him, hands rubbing over Dean's body. Dean looked at the simple clock on the wall, sighing inwardly when he noticed it was barely nine in the morning. "Okay," he repeated softly to himself.

***

Dean took a shower after his breakfast had digested, wanting to make sure he was extra clean for tonight. He borrowed some really soft black lounge pants from Cas, along with a too large, worn and soft white shirt with a faded bee. Cas took a shower after him, dressing in a pair of plaid grey-black lounge pants and a worn grey shirt.

Cas was extremely attentive to him the rest of the day, both of them curling up in Cas's bed for most of the day, watching randomly picked movies on his TV. During each movie, which was probably a total of four or five, Cas would do something different.

For the duration of the first movie, he rubbed Dean's head and neck, fingers teasing him gently. For the whole second movie, he moved down to Dean's back and shoulders, massaging him with firm fingers. For the entirety of the third, he moved down to Dean's legs and feet, rubbing him thoroughly. He loosened all of Dean's muscles by the end of the third.

They took a break after that, for bathroom breaks and food.

During the fourth movie, he made Dean lay on his stomach and then lay half on top of him and half on the bed on his side, arms tucked under Dean's abdomen and lips pressed to his neck, pressing tiny kisses into his neck and rubbing his nose over Dean's nape. In the second half of the movie, Cas had started whispering about how good Dean was, how proud of him he was and how Dean was so wonderful and beautiful and unique.

It had made him squirm away.

And in response, Cas had started kissing him all over. From the very top of his head to the tips of his toes. His toes! Dean ended up completely naked by the end of it. When the fifth movie started, Cas had continued his kisses and praises, but after a while, he'd started tickling Dean, which ended up making Dean cry and lose his breath and squirm all over the bed in a futile attempt to escape Cas's cruel fingers.

It was around seven in the evening, after they'd been relaxing to digest their dinner, that Cas sat up and disappeared into his closet. He'd shuffled around quietly in there for quite a while, leaving Dean to lay on the bed and wait nervously. Cas had come back out after fifteen minutes with nothing in his hands and a suspicious, dark smile on his face.

He'd curled up behind Dean, one hand sliding under Dean's bare right hip and the other rubbing lightly at the skin of his abdomen, nails occasionally scratching his chest. Dean shivered, arching his back slightly and tilting his head. Cas gently bit his neck, sucking softly, not enough to leave a mark, before pulling back and kissing the spot.

Cas's hand moved to one of Dean's nipples, his right one, and slowly began circling the nub, brushing over it every few seconds. Dean shivered and felt his cock slowly harden. He did the same to Dean's left one, pressing kisses up Dean's neck to his ear, only stopping his hand movements once his lips pressed to the shell of Dean's ear. "How do you feel about being tied up with rope?" he asked softly, biting on Dean's lobe and pulling lightly.

"What kind of rope?" Dean replied in a scratching voice, clearing his throat halfway through his return question. Cas hummed softly, letting go of his ear and licking at his jaw.

"Are you allergic to anything?"

Dean frowned and shook his head, "No. Well, cats." Cas chuckled in reply.

"Good. And bad. I like cats," Cas nipped the spot on his jaw he'd licked. "I was thinking cotton or silk rope," Cas said, pulling away from Dean and shifting backwards. He turned Dean onto his back, leaning in closer to him and kissing Dean's jaw. Cas moved the kisses over his cheeks and eyes and chin and throat, circling his lips and never touching them. "Leaning more towards cotton."

"I like," he swallowed as Cas's hand dipped down over his chest and stomach, scratching lightly at his bare hips and inner thighs, dodging his hard cock the whole time. "I like, uh, rougher rope."

Cas laughed in reply. "Yes, I figured, you little masochist," he muttered. Dean felt his cheeks warm at the pet name, tilting his head and staring up at Cas lazily. He received a tender smile in return. "I want you bound, Dean, immobile; but I also want you comfortable. Silk, even cotton or nylon, is much more comfortable than hemp or jute."

"What are we doing anyways?"

"Do you trust me?" Dean frowned but nodded. "May I keep it a secret a little while longer then?" He looked away, staring at the ceiling and entirely too aware of Cas's heavy gaze on his face. "I promise it's nothing too bad."

"Don't think anything you've ever done to me was bad," Dean muttered, cheeks warming again when Cas snorted with amusement. "Yeah, okay. Surprise me." Cas kissed his cheek and shifted on top of him, one of his thighs moving between Dean's legs. He tucked his forearms around Dean's shoulders, moving his head down and kissing his neck, sucking softly at his skin. Enough for Dean to feel it but not enough to leave marks darker than a very light pink that would fade in a few minutes.

Cas shifted a bit, leaning away from Dean's chest. He pulled his left arm from under Dean's body and placed his hand over Dean's right nipple. His leg shifted a bit, pressing into Dean's cock and balls. Dean moaned in reply, twitching his lips up against the soft fabric of his pants and arching his back a touch. "Hump my leg, baby boy."

"Fuck," he breathed, turning his head and barely managing to capture Cas's lips in a kiss. Dean rocked his hips, cock sliding against Cas's leg, and felt the man press down and meet his movements. Dean whined, the sound lost into their kiss, and clutched at Cas's shirt.

Cas dug his nails into Dean's chest, dragging them down and over his nipple, then back up. His thumb rubbed the hardened nub gently, teasing. He broke the kiss and tucked his face in Dean's neck, nibbling hard at his left collarbone. Dean shivered and desperately rocked his hips faster, feeling his cock leak out little drops of precum.

"So good, baby boy," Cas cooed into his skin, his index joining his thumb around Dean's nipple. He squeezed with both digits lightly, pulling the nub and working it between his fingers. Dean groaned and turned his head away, biting his lip. "Tell me when you're close."

"Close," he muttered in return, still fucking up against Cas's thigh. The man huffed against his shoulder, pressing down harder and massaging his balls lightly. Dean whimpered and bucked up, which made his leg press in even more. "Fuck, dammit," he rasped, trembling.

Cas rubbed his leg firmly against Dean, edging him closer and closer to orgasm. Dean breathed shakily and looked up into Cas's eyes when he lifted his body above Dean's. His nails raked over Dean's right nipple, fingers and thumb pulling and squeezing, teasing the hardened nub. Dean bit his lip, looking down between their bodies.

"Cas, Cas," he gasped, squirming backwards. "Stop." He didn't want him to but he didn't want to ruin this. Cas slowed down his movements and eventually stopped, leg still resting against Dean.

"Such a good boy," he murmured, kissing Dean's cheek lightly. He let go of Dean's nipple and pulled away, shifting off the bed and leaving Dean feeling cold. "I'll be right back." He disappeared back into the closet, shuffling around for a few seconds before coming back out with a package and a bundle of really soft looking black rope.

He set the rope on the bed beside Dean and opened the package, pulling out a prostate massager. Oh, fuck. Dean licked his lips and watched as he took the vibrator and package into the bathroom, the water turning on as he no doubt cleaned it. Dean squirmed on the bed and touched the rope, picking it up and holding it above his body.

It was really soft and, as he set it on his chest, he knew it would feel amazing properly knotted against his body. "Spread your legs, kitten," Cas said, padding back into the room with the massager. Dean flushed at the chosen name, remembering a few weeks ago, and spread his legs and bent his knees, feet digging into the bed with anticipation.

Cas opened the bottom drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a pump bottle of lube, pushing the drawer shut before crawling between Dean's legs. "Relax," he murmured, setting down the massager and pumping out some lube onto his fingers, rubbing them and warming the gel up. He reached down and rubbed his finger over Dean's hole, forcing a shudder from him.

"Have you ever had your prostate milked?" Cas asked, slowly working his finger into Dean's hole. Dean shook his head, biting his lip to hold back a groan. Dean usually fingered himself every other day in the shower but he hadn't done so at all this week and it felt so good to have something inside of him again. "Mm. If only you could see how greedily your hole is swallowing my finger," Cas laughed.

Dean huffed and turned his face away, shoulder lifting off the bed as he pressed his face into the sheets. "Aw, don't hide yourself from me," Cas was grinning, Dean knew could actually hear it. "I want to see your pretty little lips part when I rub against your little bundle of nerves."

Dean didn't move.

Cas stopped moving.

Dean rolled his eyes and looked back at Cas, narrowing his eyes when he saw a sparkle in Cas's. "You're so weird," he said, shifting his hips and trying to get the man to move his finger again. Cas raised a brow, using his free hand to press Dean's hips into the mattress before moving his finger in and out of him again.

"Am I?" Cas said thoughtfully, carefully working another finger into Dean. "If I'm weird, kitten, then you are too." Dean made a frustrated noise, shifting his hips. "What?"

"Why do you keep calling me kitten?" He muttered, looking at the ceiling so he didn't have to see Cas's curious eyes.

"Do you not like it?" Cas's tone gave nothing away but Dean knew he was thinking deeply. "Dean?"

"Not it," he sighed, shifting up onto his elbows and looking down at his leaking cock. He looked Cas in the eye, swallowing. "Just makes me feel weird."

"Bad weird? Or good weird?" Cas slipped his fingers out of Dean, pulling his hand back towards his legs and focusing on the conversation. Dean groaned and pushed himself up further to his hands.

"Just... just weird. I dunno," Dean felt vulnerable, legs spread wide open for Cas, arms supporting his body instead of covering it. Cas leaned forward, bracing his body with his hands on either side of Dean's body, hands close to Dean's but not too close. 

"Would you like to be my kitten tonight, baby?" Cas murmured, brushing their lips together. "Would you like to squirm in my lap while I pet your belly and scratch behind your ears?" Dean blushed and looked down.

"Stop it," he muttered, leaning closer to Cas.

"Come on, kitty," he cooed, nipping Dean's bottom lip. "Stretch back so I can scratch your belly."

" _Cas,_ " he pouted slightly. He didn't want to be a cat today. He wanted to do whatever the rope and massager were here for. The man grinned at him and pecked his lips, leaning back again.

"I would like to play with my kitty again though," Cas mused, fingers circling around Dean's rim again.

"Your kitty?"

"Yes. Mine. Only mine," Cas locked eyes with him, dark and possessive, and Dean shivered, gulping and nodding. He wrapped his hand around Dean's throat, pushing him down onto the bed and hovering over him, three wet fingers slipping into Dean. "Not _his_ ," he practically growled. " _Mine._ "

Dean whimpered and nodded quickly multiple times, heart pounding and stomach clenching. His cock twitched across his belly, leaking out more precum as Cas's fingers grazed his prostate. "Yours," he croaked, clenching around his fingers. "M'yours-"

"Good boy," he crooned, kissing the underside of Dean's chin, fingers still loosely wrapped around his throat. Dean bit his lip, arching his back and pressing the back of his head into the sheets, exposing more of his throat to Cas's teeth. He liked possessive Cas. A lot. "My good little boy."

Dean moaned, Cas's fingers pressing against his prostate, rubbing gently. They slipped out slowly, Dean didn't have time to mourn the loss, because the next thing he knew, the slicked up tip of the prostate massager was slipping inside of him slowly. He shifted and relaxed, panting lightly as it slowly pushed into him.

"S'good," he rasped, clenching around the object. He closed his eyes, trying to even his breathing, but struggling as he felt the massager press against his prostate and taint. God, this was already torture.

Cas shifted, and murmured, "Open your eyes, baby boy." He obeyed, inhaling sharply when he realized Cas was directly above him against. Dean heard a very soft, barely there click, and tensed as the massager inside of him suddenly turned on. Dean whimpered and bucked, eyes widening with pleasure. "So beautiful," Cas's voice sounded rougher.

"Cas," he moaned, rocking his hips lightly, cock pulsing against his belly. He heard another click and squeezed his eyes shut as the vibrations got even more intense, pawing at the sheets desperately. "That feels so gooood," he whined, arching his back and grinding his ass into the bed.

Cas hummed and shifted away, the vibrations going higher, rapidly bringing Dean closer and closer to his orgasm. "Tell me when you're close, kitten," Cas said, an edge to his voice that promised punishment if Dean didn't comply. He whimpered. Fuck, he wanted a spanking.

Dean opened his eyes and lifted his head, watching as Cas untied the cotton rope and opened it out. There were two pieces and they were both thick but one was longer than the other. The rope brushed over his legs and he trembled, clenching around the massager. "Off, off," he gasped quickly. "Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Cas, please. I'm- I-I-"

Cas turned it off.

So close.

Dean hissed and let out a shuddering breath, dropping back onto the bed and feeling his eyes burn with unshed tears. He had a feeling he knew what was going on here. And he didn't know how to feel about it. 

"Turn onto your stomach, honey," Cas said gently, waiting for Dean to comply before moving closer to him. "I'm going to bind your arms together. Are you okay with that?" Dean nodded, unable to verbally respond; grateful when Cas didn't make him try.

Cas's fingers were careful as they aligned his forearms, helping Dean keep them in place for a second. He attached the rope to Dean's wrists, making a knot and binding his forearms together firmly and smoothly. Dean held his breath.

Cas pulled his hands away, sitting back. "How does that feel?" Dean tested the rope, shivering.

"Good," he breathed finally.

"Relax," Cas rubbed his lower back then tugged on the rope, fingers slipping beneath each section and checking the tightness. "I need to get something quick. Wait just a second." Cas shifted off the bed and shuffled back into the closet, returning with a pair of scissors. "Almost forgot," he said, setting them on the nightstand.

"Why the scissors?" Dean cleared his throat, frowning at the nightstand.

"Just in case I don't have time to undo the knots and you need to be released quickly," Cas said simply, settling back on the bed. "Slowly turn over for me." Cas helped him onto his back. "Your arms okay?" Dean nodded, flexing his fingers. Felt pretty good actually. "Good."

Cas picked up the other length of rope, the longer piece, and carefully began to tie Dean's ankles together. Dean watched, intrigued, as he expertly made little knots and tied his feet together. He watched the knots go up his body, the rope wrapping around his legs and binding them tight.

Cas checked the tightness with two fingers as he went up Dean's body, kindly making sure Dean's legs were relaxed and his balls weren't trapped between his thighs. He finished the knots off by tying the rest of the rope loosely to the side of Dean's hip. "Good?"

"Yes, sir," he smiled at Cas's pleased look. The vibrator turned on to a low setting, probably the lowest by the feeling. Dean hummed at the sensations, tugging lightly at the ropes before relaxing and letting himself feel the vibrations. Cas straddled his legs, leaning down and mouthing at his balls.

Dean bit his lip, lifting his head and watching the man suck on the soft skin, tongue gently licking. God, that felt so good. Dean closed his eyes and let his head drop back, rocking up against Cas's mouth, moaning softly. Cas licked up the underside of Dean's cock, teeth ever so carefully dragging against his sensitive skin.

Dean arched, licking his dry lips and breathing out softly. He scratched at the sheets, feeling Cas slowly take him into his mouth, sucking softly and gently, drool leaking down Dean's cock teasingly. He whimpered, tilting his head back and swallowing to feel his Adam's apple bob. The massager was helping bring him closer to orgasm faster than a soft sucking on his cock usually would.

It was teasing.

And it was absolutely horrible.

Except it wasn't.

"Cas," he begged, cock throbbing in the man's warm - so, so warm - mouth. He felt Cas's throat tighten around his cock as he took him deeper, gag reflex seemingly nonexistent. Dean breathed raggedly, stomach jerking with his uneven and harsh breaths. "Sir," he whined.

Cas pulled off his cock and sucked over the length of it, nipping above his cock before kissing back to his ball and sucking them into his mouth, one at a time. Dean groaned as he sucked, sending bolts of pleasure through Dean. Cas's hands started slowly rubbing Dean's thighs, soothing him a little.

"M'close, m'close," he rasped, hissing as Cas's tongue pressed and licked just underneath the head of his cock. " _Please._ " He sounds so pitiful.

"Hush," Cas pulled away, the massager turning off for a moment. He leaned above Dean, forearm slipping under his shoulder. "Look at me, sweetheart," he said, voice laced with something Dean couldn't comprehend.

He tilted his head, locking eyes with Cas and shivering at the intense stare that greeted him. The massager turned on to a higher, much higher level, and Cas wrapped his hand around Dean's cock. He jerked him slowly, thumb rubbing teasingly at the head of his cock, mixing precum and saliva to make the slide slicker.

Dean parted his lips, leaning up and pressing them to Cas's. He sighed softly, never looking away from Cas's eyes as they shared a sweet, short kiss. Cas's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, his blue eyes sparkling down at Dean with a look of tender care. It hurt.

It was so intimate. All of it. Cas's hand wrapped around his cock, their locked eyes and close bodies. The rope binding Dean made him feel so vulnerable, and Cas's warm eyes weren't helping to erase the feeling. Dean gripped the sheets in his hands, nails digging sharply into it.

"Cas," it was softer than a normal tone but louder than a whisper.

"Dean."

He couldn't look away.

Dean's eyes widened, his orgasm catching him by surprise. He cried out softly against Cas's lips, bucking sharply into the man's hand, the massager pressing hard against his prostate and perineum. And he...

He couldn't look away from Cas.

As he rode out his orgasm, watching Cas's eyes widen with delight at seeing Dean achieve completion. He saw the softness deep in his eyes. Dean swallowed dryly, panting softly as Cas and the machine milked him. Cas gently let go of him and turned the device off.

He eased away from Dean, not saying a word as he took the scissors and cut the ropes, not bothering to take the time to undo them. Cas's hands were trembling, Dean could see the tremor, could feel it as he sliced through the rope with the scissors.

Dean blinked dazedly, shifting onto his side to let Cas do his arms. It took a few seconds before they were completely go and he rolled onto his back again. Cas pulled the massager out of Dean gently, standing and stepping towards the bathroom. Dean heard him rinse it off and he returned with a damp, warm cloth, cleaning Dean of lube and come.

Cas left the room and so Dean shakily turned over and crawled to his hands and knees, kicking away the pieces of rope and slipping under the cool covers. His hands trembled, maybe his whole body did, but he didn't pay attention to it. Dean curled up in the middle of the bed, clutching at a pillow that smelled of Cas.

Cas padded back into the room and shut the door with a click, setting a couple things on the dresser. He pulled away the rest of the rope and the scissors, moving them far out of the way before crawling into bed behind Dean. He forced Dean to sit up and helped him drink a glass of orange juice.

"Mm... I like apple," Dean slurred his words but he knew Cas understood.

"I know," he said quietly. "I'm sorry. I don't have any."

"S'okay," he finished off the glass, licking his lips. Cas set it on the dresser and pulled Dean close, laying on the pillows behind him. "Cas."

"Dean." He stared at the sheets, pulling them higher over his shoulders. Dean closed his eyes, relaxing back against Cas.

"I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"You didn't say I could come."

"I wanted you to," Cas kissed his shoulder. "You were beautiful."

"Don't-" Dean bit his lip, squeezing his eyes for just a second. "Let's sleep."

"... Okay," Cas sighed into his neck. He shifted and turned off his nightstand lamp, plunging the room into darkness. "Sleep well, kitten." Dean smiled slightly at the name, cuddling back against Cas and drifting off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings: Care. Edging. Blowjob. Handjob. Orgasm Delay/Denial. Prostate Massager. Rope Bondage. Aftercare.**


End file.
